contrarian-marion:

contrarianmarion-archive-deacti:

“Wha— ugh!” Finding herself face level with his armpit wasn’t exactly like breathing in a bouquet of daisies. Dipping a hand into a purse, she produced a small vial of perfume, which she proceeded to spritz him with. “You need this more than I do, you baboon.”

“Old bat?! How rude, as if I’d ever own something that— well, actually I did steal this from the bedroom of a dead 90 year old woman… but that’s beside the point!” She came after him, still spraying the perfume. If it was stinky, she may as well use it all up. “Smells a lot better than your sweaty man stink.”

”Argh!“ Eric dodged it as best as he cough, gagging on the thick cloud of perfume hanging in the air. "I happen tae like m’ man stink!” He tried to snatch away the bottle.