Proud Mike Nnemonic by Generator

Proud Mike Nnemonic A Short Story by Whatever Mike Nnemonic had always hated rural Moscow with its talented, tight tunnels. It was a place where he felt ecstatic.

He was a proud, tactless, cocoa drinker with curvy hands and hairy legs. His friends saw him as a mashed, modern muppet. Once, he had even brought a rapid chicken back from the brink of death. That's the sort of man he was.

Mike walked over to the window and reflected on his creepy surroundings. The moon shone like dancing rats.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Spot xspot. Spot was a hopeful god with skinny hands and slimy legs.

Mike gulped. He was not prepared for Spot.

As Mike stepped outside and Spot came closer, he could see the confused glint in his eye.

Spot gazed with the affection of 3022 daring broad bears. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want a pencil."

Mike looked back, even more worried and still fingering the ribbed kettle. "Spot, what's up Doc," he replied.

They looked at each other with stressed feelings, like two friendly, faffdorking foxes thinking at a very sweet accident, which had piano music playing in the background and two optimistic uncles eating to the beat.

Mike regarded Spot's skinny hands and slimy legs. "I feel the same way!" revealed Mike with a delighted grin.

Spot looked sleepy, his emotions blushing like a beautiful, brief blade.

Then Spot came inside for a nice mug of cocoa.

THE END

Made using

☀http://www.plot-generator.org.uk/