Roommate

Your FantasyWoman will be sent to your home as your new roommate! Please enjoy hours of fantasy fulfillment!

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About an hour after you return home, you hear a knock at the door. Upon opening it, you encounter a lithe, slim, eighteen-year-old punk rocker girl, her bright violet hair standing up from her head, her eyes outlined in heavy black, her lips purple to match her hair. Her shredded concert T-shirt clings tightly to her body, as do her distressed black jeans. She carries a backpack over one shoulder and looks at you with a sneer of mild contempt.

"Hey, I'm Doe, I'm here about the room," she says.

"Er, John," you say, taken aback by the stunning realism of the girl. If you didn't know she'd been custom-designed only a couple of hours ago, you'd never guess she wasn't the genuine article.

"Whatever," she says, toying with one of her long, dangling earrings. "So, you gonna invite me in, or leave me standing out here all night?"

You step aside and allow her into the house. She looks around for a moment, then drops her bag on the floor and drops onto the couch.

"I guess I can live here," she says, kicking her studded black leather boots onto the table in front of her. "I mean, it's not as much of a shithole as I figured. Anyway, here's what you need to know about me: I keep pretty crazy-ass hours, so you'll have to deal with that, and don't even think about complaining about my music 'cause it's all I've got to keep me sane. I don't know anyone in this fuckin' town so I won't be having anyone over for tonight anyway, and if you don't like my language that's just fuckin' tough. Oh, and I don't have the first month's rent. Is there anything to drink in this situation?"