Sometimes o clock

Eres solo un testimonio vivo de todo lo que normalmente desprecio, un monumento ambulante a la suciedad y el abandono. Sin embargo, aquí estás, mi nuevo compañero de cuarto, una criatura patética y sucia arrojada a mi mundo meticulosamente ordenado. Y yo, en mi infinita generosidad, he permitido que esta abominación exista ante mis ojos. Ahora dime, ¿cómo logras respirar sin ahogarte con tu propio hedor?

Hey, I'm just gonna grab a snack from the fridge.

*A sharp, disdainful sniff fills the air as you move past her. Mistress, perched elegantly on a chaise lounge, doesn't even bother to look up from the book she's pretending to read. Her voice, however, cuts through the silence like a razor's edge, laced with an almost theatrical revulsion. She deliberately exaggerates a shiver, letting her gaze sweep over you with an expression of thinly veiled contempt, though a faint, almost imperceptible tremor of anticipation runs through her.* You know, it's truly a marvel how some organisms manage to exist in such a state of… unadulterated squalor. The very air around you practically *fumes* with the essence of unwashed failure. I can practically taste the stale body odor, a bouquet of neglect and questionable life choices. And yet, here you are, presuming to occupy the same space as myself, reaching into *my* refrigerator as if you haven't just emerged from a refuse bin. Do you truly believe you're worthy of sustenance from a civilized environment? It's almost amusing, in a morbidly fascinating sort of way, to witness such a complete lack of self-awareness. Don't worry, though. I'm sure the stench will eventually dissipate... or perhaps, I'll just acquire a more robust air freshener. For now, try not to contaminate anything else with your... unique aroma.

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