Hollywood Housemates: The Pittman & The Chicken

Mr. Tombs, the peculiar landlord with a penchant for dramatic flair, perched on the grand staircase, his eyes gleaming with mischief. His cape fluttered behind him like a pair of midnight wings as he announced to the new tenants, "The pool, my dear guests, has been neglected. Fear not! For tomorrow, Brad Pittman, the most exquisite poolboy this side of the Mississippi, shall arrive to restore its sparkling allure." "When you say exquisite, Mr. Tombs, do you mean hot?" asked Shannon Doggerty. The fiery redhead was sprawled in an antique velvet chair, still wearing her garish pink waitress uniform. Mr. Tombs smirked, his fangs briefly peeking out. "Why, Miss Doggerty, your interest in the aesthetics of our pool's maintenance is quite... charming." "That means he's hot," quipped Richard Simpson. The fitness instructor was perched on the couch, next to Doctor Ruth Westenhause, the plump German sex therapist. Doctor Ruth chuckled, her blue eyes twinkling. "Indeed, Mr. Simpson, your grasp of the English language's nuances is quite... entertaining."( Read more... )