Sonk The Needle Mouse

A Sudden, Jarring Tonal Shift and Guns Too

The sky was gloomier than usual. The sounds of joy became fewer and fewer as the days went by. There was no hope. There was no joy. The love was dead. Sonk sat upon the dirt during the dark night as everything crashed and burned. Milkman's forces had destroyed everything. His hand rested upon his gun which he had this whole time, trust me. As Sonk saw the last pieces of the world he knew burst into flames, he clenched his gun with the most amount of strength he could muster up before realising that it was all gone. Everything was gone. The embers of passion and emotion died out, along with all of the life left in the world. Sonk wanted to get rid of the pain, starting with the only thing he cares about now. He reached into the pocket of his epic leather jacket which was soaked in the blood of his allies and pulled out a glove. A very familiar glove. One which had gone through all of the ups and downs of a loving romance and terrible war. The glove, stained with blood, was Talls'. The feeling of loss was unbearable. All he had was pain and his gun. Sonk wanted to leave his past behind him. He didn't want to feel the pain any longer. He throw the glove high into the air and proceeded to shoot it with his gun, destroying it. He has felt too much pain. He must get rid of anything which can make him feel. There was no longer any bacon which needs saving. He will never get attached again. And he has roller skates too I just didn't know where to add that in.
Gun in hand, Sonk began the journey that would make up the rest of his, now pointless, existence through the wasteland he called Green mountain place. Green mountain place? Now it's more like Sand mountain place.