The next day, the blizzard raged. “It’ll be oawlright tomarrow.” Mr. Jamaal reassured. It didn’t convince James though. It was always like this. Since James arrived it had been like this. But still the white flakes falling from the wind-swept sky continued to whip the back of 12 year old James while he strolled through fields of plants, dead from the freezing temperatures of Northern England.

Whilst snacking on a Cornish pasty, James had an idea. He dropped his Cornish pasty(Please don’t drop your Cornish pasties. It causes offence to Cornish pasties. Also, you never know when a mutant Cornish pasty might try to eat you.)and rushed out of the door, leaving his Cornish pasty inside 23 Kitty-Cat Road(Please don’t leave your Cornish pasties inside 23 Kitty-Cat Road. It causes offence to Cornish pasties. Also, you never know when a mutant Cornish pasty might try to eat you.)to put his plan into action(For all you evil villains out there, it isn’t an evil plan).

Outside, the blizzard blasted ice into every crevice left unguarded. Inside, the heat of the living room and Ms. Grumbly’s favorite chair tried to suck James back into the house like a black hole, sucking all the heat(and James’ Cornish pasty) inside. Desperately, he searched the village and beyond: the fields of decaying plants, their frozen stems smothered with sand-like snow; the depths of the shadowy forest that Luna’s cave settles in unsearched; and the granite paths that surround the area that Billie normally torments small children(and sometimes James). But, he had no luck, so he was down to one last hope.

Mr. Jamaal likes to have a nosey around the village and eavesdrop on the unsuspecting idiots that don’t know what 37892 x 36715 is. Trust me that sum is like 1+1. The answer is 1,391,204,780 for all you (stupid)people who didn’t know the answer. Back to my story, James kicked the nosey man’s door, which would normally get his attention.(being the lazy man he was)The door swung open, revealing a grumpy, old man in his pajamas. “Waddu yu wan’ now?” he roared. “I want to know if you’ve seen Billie Stupid around here?” James articulated in that posh manner that Caspar Jamaal liked. Caspar recited his memory silently before speaking again. “No, I ain’ seen ‘im lately.” bellowed Caspar. ” Thank you for your information.”

That was almost 79 years ago though, and I did eventually find him, whispering nonsense into Luna’s ear, stroking her furry back. A few years ago, Ms. Grumbly texted me saying that Luna had disappeared, with just as little fuss as she had arrived. A friendship born out of hate.