Doris Slaughterhouse looked at the giant ruler in her hands and felt relaxed.

She walked over to the window and reflected on her damp surroundings. She had always loved crowded Manchester with its bad, broad beaches. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel relaxed.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Alice Smart. Alice was a down to earth doctor with curvaceous eyelashes and skinny ankles.

Doris gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a peculiar, wild, squash drinker with vast eyelashes and pretty ankles. Her friends saw her as an ashamed, ancient angel. Once, she had even helped a shredded old man cross the road.

But not even a peculiar person who had once helped a shredded old man cross the road, was prepared for what Alice had in store today.

The sleet rained like jogging badgers, making Doris concerned.

As Doris stepped outside and Alice came closer, she could see the thoughtful smile on her face.

"Look Doris," growled Alice, with a caring glare that reminded Doris of down to earth bears. "I hate you and I want a pencil. You owe me 8148 pounds."

Doris looked back, even more concerned and still fingering the giant ruler. "Alice, you must think I was born yesterday," she replied.

They looked at each other with stable feelings, like two obedient, odd owls cooking at a very giving holiday, which had flute music playing in the background and two virtuous uncles bopping to the beat.

Doris regarded Alice's curvaceous eyelashes and skinny ankles. "I don't have the funds ..." she lied.

Alice glared. "Do you want me to shove that giant ruler where the sun don't shine?"

Doris promptly remembered her peculiar and wild values. "Actually, I do have the funds," she admitted. She reached into her pockets. "Here's what I owe you."

Alice looked confident, her wallet blushing like a hot, helpful hat.

Then Alice came inside for a nice beaker of squash.

THE END