Ottó Rayford looked at the giant sandwich in his hands and felt sad.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his dry surroundings. He had always hated wet bed with its proud, purple pool of ♥♥♥. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel sad.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Graham Fincher. Graham was a daring lawyer with scrawny eyelashes and wobbly fingers.

Ottó gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a rude, down to earth, beer drinker with beautiful eyelashes and pink fingers. His friends saw him as a mammoth, mouldy monster. Once, he had even helped an agreeable disabled person cross the road.

But not even a rude person who had once helped an agreeable disabled person cross the road, was prepared for what Graham had in store today.

The rain hammered like chatting pigeons, making Ottó sad.

As Ottó stepped outside and Graham came closer, he could see the wandering glint in his eye.

"I am here because I want sex," Graham bellowed, in a cowardly tone. He slammed his fist against Ottó's chest, with the force of 5497 horses. "I so ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ gay for you, Ottó Rayford."

Ottó looked back, even more sad and still fingering the giant sandwich. "Graham, I have boner," he replied.

They looked at each other with sad feelings, like two hard, high-pitched horses humping at a very stupid carol service, which had classical music playing in the background and two hungry uncles cooking to the beat.

Ottó studied Graham's scrawny eyelashes and wobbly fingers. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you sex," he explained, in pitying tones.

Graham looked horny, his body raw like a shiny, slimy sandwich.

Ottó could actually hear Graham's body shatter into 6155 pieces. Then the daring lawyer hurried away into the distance.

Not even a drink of beer would calm Ottó's nerves tonight.

THE END
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