Mike Wazowski looked at the bendy teapot in his hands and felt calm.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his derelict surroundings. He had always loved creepy Madrid with its tricky, tight tunnels. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel calm.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Mary Poppins. Mary was a sweet gamer with red hands and chubby arms.
Mike gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was an admirable, kind, cocoa drinker with feathery hands and handsome arms. His friends saw him as a quickest, quick queen. Once, he had even helped an obnoxious chicken cross the road.
But not even an admirable person who had once helped an obnoxious chicken cross the road, was prepared for what Mary had in store today.
The snow flurried like partying koalas, making Mike shocked.
As Mike stepped outside and Mary came closer, he could see the shallow glint in her eye.
Mary glared with all the wrath of 2747 courageous big bears. She said, in hushed tones, "I hate you and I want a wifi code."
Mike looked back, even more shocked and still fingering the bendy teapot. "Mary, I just don't need you in my life any more," he replied.
They looked at each other with lonely feelings, like two grubby, grieving gerbils boating at a very sinister wedding, which had drum and bass music playing in the background and two daring uncles jumping to the beat.
Suddenly, Mary lunged forward and tried to punch Mike in the face. Quickly, Mike grabbed the bendy teapot and brought it down on Mary's skull.
Mary's red hands trembled and her chubby arms wobbled. She looked concerned, her emotions raw like a klutzy, knowing kettle.
Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Mary Poppins was dead.
Mike Wazowski went back inside and made himself a nice mug of cocoa.