Sympathetic Brett Loebel

Sympathetic Brett Loebel

A Short Story
by Brett "Blunt Object" Loebel

Tony Blunder had always loved idyllic London with its jittery, joyous jungle. It was a place where he felt sparkly.

He was a generous, giving, brandy drinker with dirty toes and slimy ankles. His friends saw him as a grim, gentle gamer. Once, he had even rescued a mutated old man from a burning building. That's the sort of man he was.

Tony walked over to the window and reflected on his backward surroundings. The clouds danced like hopping blue bottles.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Brett Loebel. Brett was a sympathetic knight with short toes and slimy ankles.

Tony gulped. He was not prepared for Brett.

As Tony stepped outside and Brett came closer, he could see the quarrelsome glint in his eye.

"I am here because I want equality," Brett bellowed, in a hungry tone. He slammed his fist against Tony's chest, with the force of 3319 maggots. "I frigging love you, Tony Blunder."

Tony looked back, even more concerned and still fingering the tattered map. "Brett, I ate your puppy," he replied.

They looked at each other with worried feelings, like two oily, old-fashioned owls sleeping at a very sweet Valentine's meal, which had trance music playing in the background and two brave uncles swimming to the beat.

Tony studied Brett's short toes and slimy ankles. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you equality," he explained, in pitying tones.

Brett looked shocked, his body raw like a keen, kindly knife.

Tony could actually hear Brett's body shatter into 8102 pieces. Then the sympathetic knight hurried away into the distance.

Not even a glass of brandy would calm Tony's nerves tonight.

THE END