Bella and Edward stood on the prow of the majestic cruise liner, the Titanic. Edward, the misunderstood, ruffian artist was supporting his true love's waist as she cut the air with her sharp nose, arms spread wide to disperse her body odor.
"This is awesome!" she exclaimed, flapping her arms.
Edward smothered a choke in his shoulder awkwardly at the fresh wave of corn chips. Unfortunately, deodorant was yet to be invented.
"Indeed," he replied. Despite her smell, and the icepick attached to her face, she really was a sweet girl. If he ever got the nerve, he would ask her to marry him.
He did not count on the proliferation of seabirds.
One of the avians had been hatched into a destiny, and raised by his feathered family with one purpose. In that moment of air spilling out of wings and a kamikaze cry, the bird dive bombed. It hit Bella square in the face.
With a scream and a full-body convulsion, Bella squirmed out of Edward's grasp, tipping over the railing to fall into the churning water.
"BELLA! NOOOOOOOOO!" shouted Edward dramatically as his love disappeared beneath the waves.
He stared at where she vanished for a long, long time.
And then he went inside to chat up that scullery maid from the dance floor the night before.
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