Hey y'all so I tried out a story making website, added a bunch of stuff and here is what happened.
I am pissing myself, its so stupid. Enjoy
Mitch Grassi was thinking about Scott Hoying again. Scott was a forgetful brute with tall eyes and skinny lips.
Mitch walked over to the window and reflected on his pretty surroundings. He had always hated old-fashioned LA with its pong, prickly park. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel sad.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a forgetful figure of Scott Hoying.
Mitch gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a thoughtless, smart, beer drinker with brunette eyes and handsome lips. His friends saw him as an ashamed, arrogant animal. Once, he had even helped a lovely old man cross the road.
But not even a thoughtless person who had once helped a lovely old man cross the road, was prepared for what Scott had in store today.
The moon shone like singing snakes, making Mitch delighted. Mitch grabbed a crumpled record that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.
As Mitch stepped outside and Scott came closer, he could see the sneezing glint in his eye.
"I am here because I want peace," Scott bellowed, in a proud tone. He slammed his fist against Mitch's chest, with the force of 984 tortoises. "I frigging hate you, Mitch Grassi."
Mitch looked back, even more delighted and still fingering the crumpled record. "Scott, I just don't need you in my life any more," he replied.
They looked at each other with calm feelings, like two red, rich rats sitting at a very tight-fisted birthday party, which had jazz music playing in the background and two funny uncles partying to the beat.
Mitch regarded Scott's tall eyes and skinny lips. He held out his hand. "Let's not fight," he whispered, gently.
"Hmph," pondered Scott.
"Please?" begged Mitch with puppy dog eyes.
Scott looked lonely, his body blushing like a grotesque, gentle gun.
Then Scott came inside for a nice drink of beer.
THE END
