Boston Tyrome checked out the spotty map in his hands and felt angry.
He walked over to the window and looked at his surroundings. He had always hated dirty Cape Town with its blue, broken burnt down houses. It absolutely was an area that encouraged himself to feel a sense of anger rushing through him.
Then he saw something in the far distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Sean Baker. Sean was a brave brute with lots of muscles and sloppy hair.
Boston gulped. He glanced at himself. He was a puny, nerd, Sweet tea drinker with Skinny legs. His friends saw him as a gifted, gorgeous God but they were also nerdy. Once, he had even saved a scared puppy that was stuck in a tree.
But not even an amazing goddess person that once saved a scared puppy stuck in a tree, was prepared for what Sean was going to do to him today.
The sun shone like a ball of fire getting ready to burst into flames in the sky, making Boston extremely hot and sweaty.
As Boston stepped outside and Sean came closer, he could see the evil sinister smile growing on Sean's face.
"I am here because I need Revenge," Sean bellowed, in a very ruthless tone. He slammed his fist against Boston's chest, with a force that felt like a million pounds . "I hate you, Boston Tyrome."
Boston looked back, even more puzzled and still fingering the spotty map. "Sean, I don't have the cash," he replied.
They looked at one another with a fire in both of their eyes or, like two Gorillas, running at a really fast speed, which if we hit we would both explode .
Suddenly, Sean lunged forward and tried to punch Boston in the face. Quickly, Boston grabbed the spotty map and brought it down on Sean's skull trying to get him to stop.
Sean's muscles trembled and his sloppy hair was actually straight. He looked unstable, his body was like raw meat. That has gotten torn up and eaten down to the bone.
Then he let out an enormous groan and collapsed onto the clean sidewalk that was now covered in blood. Who knew that would be the last whimper he let out. Moments later Sean Baker was dead.
Boston Tyrome cleaned up the mess and went back inside and made himself a pleasant drink of Sweet tea.
THE END