Roy Stevenson looked at the silver gun in his hands and felt calm.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his beautiful surroundings. He had always loved idyllic Madrid with its barbecued, broad beaches. 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 Alex Stevenson. Alex was a cold-blooded monster with tall head and muscular arms.
Roy gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a tight-fisted, callous, whisky drinker with big head and strong arms. His friends saw him as a dizzy, dead demon. Once, he had even revived a dying, baby.
But not even a tight-fisted person who had once revived a dying, baby, was prepared for what Alex had in store today.
The sun shone like shooting rats, making Roy jumpy.
As Roy stepped outside and Alex came closer, he could see the annoyed glint in his eye.
"I am here because I want revenge," Alex bellowed, in an intelligent tone. He slammed his fist against Roy's chest, with the force of 2795 lion. "I frigging hate you, Roy Stevenson."
Roy looked back, even more jumpy and still fingering the silver gun. "Alex, this is how you die traitor," he replied.
They looked at each other with active feelings, like two massive, mangled monkey rampaging at a very hilarious funeral, which had trance music playing in the background and two witty uncles destroying to the beat.
Suddenly, Alex lunged forward and tried to punch Roy in the face. Quickly, Roy grabbed the silver gun and brought it down on Alex's skull.
Alex's tall head trembled and his muscular arms wobbled. He looked stable, his body raw like a bloody, breakable blade.
Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Alex Stevenson was dead.
Roy Stevenson went back inside and made himself a nice drink of whisky.