Two Arrogant Uncles Rampaging to the Beat A Short Story by Anonymous Jenny Thunder had always loved grey Exeter with its nosy, naughty nooks. It was a place where she felt active. She was a caring, hopeful, squash drinker with greasy fingers and fluffy hands. Her friends saw her as a panicky, powerless painter. Once, she had even helped a gleaming injured bird cross the road. That's the sort of woman he was.