Forest Williams had always loved sleepy Happy Tree Town with its thoughtless, troubled trees (duh). It was a place where he felt ambivalent.

He was a deranged, unstable, cherry limeade drinker with furry arms and floofy woofy leggos. His friends saw him as an eggy, eager elephant. Once, he had even made a cup of tea for an unlucky blind person. That's the sort of man he was.

Forest walked over to the window and reflected on his picturesque surroundings. The sleet rained like gyrating (no) squirrels.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Catherine Ball. Catherine was a sinister dolphin with wet arms and poofy leggos.

Forest gulped. He was not prepared for Catherine.

As Forest stepped outside and Catherine came closer, he could see the filthy glint in her eye.

"I am here because I want love," Catherine bellowed, in an insane tone. She slammed her fist against Forest's chest, with the force of 6274 your moms. "I frigging love you, Forest Williams."

Forest looked back, even more puzzled and still fingering the queer but the 1930s definition Bowie knife. "Catherine, I'm gonna go die now," he replied.

They looked at each other with cross feelings, like two decaying, deadly depressions shouting at a very special really damn f#@!ing terrible accident, which had Ventolin (The Remixes) music playing in the background and two autistic uncles skipping to the beat.

Suddenly, Catherine lunged forward and tried to punch Forest in the face. Quickly, Forest grabbed the queer but the 1930s definition Bowie knife and brought it down on Catherine's skull.

Catherine's wet arms trembled and her poofy leggos wobbled. She looked relaxed, her body raw like a tender, tart The Prodigy.

Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Catherine Ball was dead.

Forest Williams went back inside and made himself a nice drink of cherry limeade.

THE END