(This story may seem totally normal. But look by the ends of the sentences and point out what happens after each individual sentence)

Martha was working down in the pantry, her big hands pummelling the floury dough for a pie. Either it was for her master or mistress, she was ignorant of that fact. The cook only served her superiors and that was her only task: one that she upheld with the utmost faith and loyalty.
Yonder, beyond the pantry ran Snowball who was the white kitten that the children often amused themselves with. Her tail waved behind her as she raced, stumbling over her childish paws, into the kitchen and begun a pitiful mewing. Gingerly, the kitten raised itself and balanced upon the table leg, looking up at Martha with beseeching eyes that pleaded for a small titbit.
The kindly cook relented and threw down a piece of meat to the feline who immediately fell upon it like a ravenous wolf. Free to cook once more, Martha resumed to knead the pastry before laying a pie pan with it.
The kitten, Snowball, left the kitchens haughtily with her tail high in the air. Rather amusingly, the cat was striving to look dignified and mature, yet succeeded in making itself seem vain and arrogant.
Time wore on and the clock struck twelve. Energetic as ever, Martha popped the pie into the oven with the filling and sat down to wait until it was ready. Yes, it was going to be a long wait and Martha hoped that her master and mistress were not just hungry yet. Tedious hours passed and finally the pie was ready and Martha, wearing gloves, took the pie out, set it on a dish and applied the vegetables. She felt her mouth water and her eyes dilate with desire as the aroma enticed but the cook knew self discipline and with a look of regret, took the pie to the nearest servant, who in turn carried it to the table where the family were dining.