Smelly Mark
A Short Story
by MarcoElNutto

Mark had always loved picturesque London Olympics 2012 with its knotty, kindhearted kettles. It was a place where he felt fuzzy.

He was a smelly, cute, beer drinker with solid moles and pointy eyelashes. His friends saw him as a magnificent, mushy muppet. Once, he had even helped a breakable baby cross the road. That's the sort of man he was.

Mark walked over to the window and reflected on his noisy surroundings. The moon shone like skipping rats.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Markette . Markette was a considerate angel with grubby moles and squat eyelashes.

Mark gulped. He was not prepared for Markette.

As Mark stepped outside and Markette came closer, he could see the impossible smile on her face.

"I am here because I want buttstuff," Markette bellowed, in a witty tone. She slammed her fist against Mark's chest, with the force of 2916 bears. "I frigging hate you, Mark ."

Mark looked back, even more active and still fingering the giant sausage. "Markette, herpes is not just for Christmas," he replied.

They looked at each other with concerned feelings, like two raw, ratty rats smiling at a very stingy Halloween party, which had classical music playing in the background and two spiteful uncles swimming to the beat.

Mark studied Markette's grubby moles and squat eyelashes. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you buttstuff," he explained, in pitying tones.

Markette looked ambivalent, her body raw like a giant, greasy gun.

Mark could actually hear Markette's body shatter into 4390 pieces. Then the considerate angel hurried away into the distance.

Not even a drink of beer would calm Mark's nerves tonight.
THE END