Joe Boyle

A Short Story by Kermit de frog:

Joe Boyle had always loved the old-fashioned rugby pitches with its rotten, rainy rugby lads. It was a place where she felt happy.


She was a stupid, thick, squash drinker with big feet and large hands. Her friends saw her as a depressed, damaged devilish young lady. Once, she had even saved a little chicken that was stuck in a drain. That's the sort of woman he was.


Joe walked over to the window and reflected on her picturesque surroundings. The clouds danced like walking foxes.


Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Shazib Saleem. Shazib was a bear, with slim legs and skinny hands.


Joe gulped. She was not prepared for Shazib.


As Joe stepped outside and Shazib came closer, she could see the thundering glint in his eye.


Shazib gazed with the affection of 2462 powerful puppies. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want hugs."


Joe looked back, even more sparkly and still fondeling the crumpled hat. "Shazib, I really do love you," she replied.


They looked at each other with anxious feelings, like two lonely, lazy lizards singing at a very silly rugby game, which had jazz music playing in the background and two lumpy uncles drinking to the beat.


Suddenly, Shazib lunged forward and tried to punch Joe in the face. Quickly, Joe grabbed the crumpled hat and brought it down on Shazib's skull.


Shazib's looked like a proper doylem as he trembled and his skinny hands wobbled. He looked angry, his emotions raw like a resonant, rabblesnatching ruler.


Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Shazib Saleem was dead.


Joe Boyle went back inside and made herself a nice beaker of squash.