This story belongs to me and all the characters belong to me, and copy written. I plan to make this into a comic whenever I get the time to do so. With that said, no stealing, or you will be punished to the full extent of the law. -Snickers evilly- Thanks. Oh and by the way, read and review and I’ll return the favor. (Also, the title is subject to change.)

Room #13

Overture: Here is Your Room Key, Miss, and May I Touch Your Bosom?

A young woman sat on the third step of a six-stepped staircase and finished the call she had just made to her single, dead-beat dad. She stared at the blinking message on the screen. ‘Call time: 00:05:07’

‘I haven’t talked to him in three years and he can only spare me five minutes?’ She thought as she closed up her phone and clenched it in her hand, stretching herself out.

It was an unusually nice day for the middle of October; usually by now all the trees were dead and leaves buried. There was a warm breeze that blew past her sending her in a trance almost as she saw the dust and dirt from the road blow by. That peaceful moment, however, was disrupted by the sound of the screen door banging shut.

“Are you Reagan?” the gruff voice from behind her bellowed.

She turned around and gasped. She only managed to nod her head slightly in response to what stood before her. She gulped. The gruff voice belonged to a man (or so she thought) of great stature and…great girth. He was balding and had small squinted eyes placed quite far apart, a large crooked nose and lips that were so thin his mouth seemed like a small slit in his bulbous face. And who says Cubism isn’t realistic? This man proved the statement true. This disproportioned, massive whale of a man finally opened his mouth to speak.

“The name is Mr. Canon.”

Gender has been confirmed.

Do you copy?

I repeat, gender has been confirmed.

“Hello.” Reagan said meekly as she got to her feet.

“Are you ready to see your room?” he asked pointing to the inside of the building.

“Sure.” She said as she picked up her bag and followed him into the building. This was proven to be quite difficult because this man was so large and with every step up to her room, the stairs creaked a cry for help as they did their best to withhold the weight of the massive man. What seemed like ages later, they finally reached Reagan’s new room.

“And there you have it, room number thirteen.” Mr. Canon said as he held out the keys to the room. When she went to take the keys from his hand, he “mistakenly” dropped them and in turn, wound up placing his hand upon her chest.

“Whoops.” He said with a mischievous grin on his face. “My hand slipped.”

Within milliseconds she slapped his hand away and bent down to pick up the keys. She looked up at him as he held his hand that now throbbed in pain.

“Whoops.” She said glaring at him as she opened her door. “My hand slipped.”

-SLAM-

End of Prologue:

Tbc

Well folks, seems like Reagan is off to a bad start but believe me…a perverted landlord is the least of her problems.

A/N: Oh, and please take no offense to the description of Mr. Canon, I have nothing against larger male individuals, in fact, I love men with girth, they are fun to squeeze. :D

First chapter should be along soon, so keep a lookout. R&R.