Slartibartfast looked at the bendy banana in her hands and felt sparkly.
She walked over to the window and reflected on her derelict surroundings. She had always loved sleepy Skegness with its plain, perfect parks. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel sparkly.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Salahudin Chamchawala. Salahudin was a peculiar animal with beautiful toenails and red lips.
Slartibartfast gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a clumsy, grateful, cocoa drinker with pink toenails and ruddy lips. Her friends saw her as a rare, racid rover. Once, she had even helped a wrong toddler cross the road.
But not even a clumsy person who had once helped a wrong toddler cross the road, was prepared for what Salahudin had in store today.
The sun shone like loving badgers, making Slartibartfast stable.
As Slartibartfast stepped outside and Salahudin came closer, she could see the curried smile on his face.
Salahudin gazed with the affection of 4183 hungry bad blue bottles. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want food."
Slartibartfast looked back, even more stable and still fingering the bendy banana. "Salahudin, I am your father," she replied.
They looked at each other with concerned feelings, like two condemned, clean cats smiling at a very modest carol service, which had classical music playing in the background and two rude uncles eating to the beat.
Slartibartfast studied Salahudin's beautiful toenails and red lips. Eventually, she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," began Slartibartfast in apologetic tones, "but I don't feel the same way, and I never will. I just don't love you Salahudin."
Salahudin looked fuzzy, his emotions raw like a real, rough ruler.
Slartibartfast could actually hear Salahudin's emotions shatter into 1303 pieces. Then the peculiar animal hurried away into the distance.
Not even a mug of cocoa would calm Slartibartfast's nerves tonight.