Marinet Dupanshan was thinking about Adren Bae again. Adren was a sinister saint with moist fingers and fragile abs.
Marinet walked over to the window and reflected on his dull surroundings. SHe had always loved rural Paris with its zealous, zesty zoos. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel ambivalent.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a sinister figure of Adren Bae.
Marinet gulped. sHe glanced at his own reflection. sHe was a clever, special, wine drinker with slimy fingers and wobbly abs. His friends saw him as an amused, annoyed angel. Once, she had even brought a high-pitched chicken back from the brink of death.
But not even a clever person who had once brought a high-pitched chicken back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Adren had in store today.
The moon shone like talking bears, making Marinet sleepy. Marinet grabbed a cursed kettle that had been strewn nearby; she massaged it with her fingers.
As Marinet stepped outside and Adren came closer, she could see the poised smile on his face.
Adren gazed with the affection of 7483 lovable keen koalas. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want some more Twitter followers."
Marinet looked back, even more sleepy and still fingering the cursed kettle. "Adren, I admire your eyebrows," she replied.
They looked at each other with sleepy feelings, like two faint, flat frogs talking at a very snooty birthday party, which had trance music playing in the background and two deranged uncles sitting to the beat.
Suddenly, Adren lunged forward and tried to punch Marinet in the face. Quickly, Marinet grabbed the cursed kettle and brought it down on Adren's skull.
Adren's moist fingers trembled and his fragile abs wobbled. He looked sneezy, his emotions raw like a squashed, scattered sausage.
Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Adren Bae was dead.
Marinet Dupanshan went back inside and made herself a nice glass of wine.