Hey, asshole, you haven't had permission to be in my life for the past ten months, so I don't know what you think you're doing. I want the prompt to be smell when really it's rant, but I can change that to work for me so I guess there's not really a way for me to argue my way out of this. I didn't notice until it was too late to do anything about it. I only caught on when the innocent lather was already all over and the faux-coconut scent had taken over the shower stall like I was in some kind of mental gas chamber. After checking the bottle I was certain: same brand, same scent, same goddamned shampoo that I smelled on you every day. The same goddamned shampoo, but it's not just that my hair's going to smell like you; no, that would be bearable. It's fucking body wash. Every goddamned square inch of my skin ( mine, not yours! It's all mine now, asshole) is stained with the scent that is the emobodiment of you. Fuck you! Fuck you and your cheap coconut Suave bullshit! Fuck Suave and their irresistible tropical aromas! Fuck their affordable quality, fuck their gallon jugs of low-priced sanitary goop! Fuck their nasally oriented themes, I have a past to escape! Why couldn't you have used green apple for more than just that trial week? Goddamn your habits and goddamn you.