I hate skunks. Skunks are bad. Skunks smell. I hated skunks. A skunk came up to me. I walked to the skunk. I smelled the skunk. He didn't smell like a skunk. I licked the skunk. He didn't taste like a skunk.
"You are not a skunk."
The skunk left. I felt bad. I went to the skunk. The skunk was great. He wasn't like a skunk at all.
"You are Flower. I am Fluttershy."
I knew what I had to do. I would steal the skunk. I picked up the skunk. I put a blanket over the skunk's head. I shoved the skunk in my bag. I was stealing the skunk. The skunk had taken the blanket off his head. I stopped and looked at the skunk. He had turned orange. I hate orange.
"Why do you do this to me?"
I knew what I had to do.
"I must kill the skunk."
I picked up the skunk. I set the skunk down on the ground. I tore off the skunk's arm. The skunk laughed. I ripped off his nose and slapped him with it. The skunk laughed more.
"I must kill you."
I ran back. I grabbed a tree. I tore off a branch. I grasped the branch. I looked at the branch. It looked like a branch. I smelled the branch. It smelled like a branch. I licked the branch. It tasted like a branch. It tasted like a branch.
"You are a branch."
I ran to the skunk. I put the branch above my head. I hit the skunk. I hit the skunk again. The skunk died. I hated orange.
