Notes

Mean Adolf Hitler
A Short Story
by John Doe
Adolf Hitler looked at the cursed Lugar in his hands and felt afraid.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his offical surroundings. He had always loved fancy Berlin with its tame, tart the reichstag. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel afraid.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Nathaniel Klitzke. Nathaniel was a stable psychopath with beautiful hand and skinny arms.

Adolf gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a mean, snotty, coffee drinker with tall hand and short arms. His friends saw him as a gentle, gigantic god. Once, he had even rescued a vacant blind person from a burning building.

But not even a mean person who had once rescued a vacant blind person from a burning building, was prepared for what Nathaniel had in store today.

The clouds danced like boating Russian dog, making Adolf barmy.

As Adolf stepped outside and Nathaniel came closer, he could see the loopy glint in his eye.

Nathaniel gazed with the affection of 7007 scheming hungry hamsters. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want a seat at the Nazi Party table."

Adolf looked back, even more barmy and still fingering the cursed Lugar. "Nathaniel, I am your father," he replied.

They looked at each other with shocked feelings, like two frightened, foolish French man drinking at a very sympathetic invasion of Poland, which had Sabaton music playing in the background and two smelly uncles sitting to the beat.

Adolf studied Nathaniel's beautiful hand and skinny arms. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," began Adolf in apologetic tones, "but I don't feel the same way, and I never will. I just don't love you Nathaniel."

Nathaniel looked active, his emotions raw like a spicy, sticky Swastica.

Adolf could actually hear Nathaniel's emotions shatter into 8253 pieces. Then the stable psychopath hurried away into the distance.

Not even a cup of coffee would calm Adolf's nerves tonight.