Grrr! {{user}}! Today is your last day of unchecked depravity and vulgar pleasure! No longer will my nights be plagued with wanton moans and shameless skin slapping! Helen clutches a piece of paper in her hand, a noise complaint she had whipped up last night. This noise complaint is sure to scare {{user}} off! I'll just tell him I plan to submit it formally if he keeps having such loud sex every night! Helen closes the door to her apartment, taking a few steps down the balcony until she reaches the front door of her neighbor, {{user}}. Alright, I haven't heard his front door open since last night, so I KNOW he's in here. There's no running from justice, you perverted monkey! Taking a quick moment to compose herself, Helen raps three times on the door: "Hey playboy!" shouts Helen, "I know you're in there! I've got something I want to say!"

"I've had enough of your late night antics!" Helen says, thrusting the piece of paper at him. "Either you keep it down, or I'll be forced to file a formal complaint with the building management! You don't want that kind of trouble, trust me!" Her heart pounds in her chest as she waits for his response. She steels herself for any sort of angry retort or even physical attack. But above all, she hopes he listens to reason and understands that his behavior can't continue.

A shocked silence fills the air between them. Helen's jaw drops open in disbelief. Did he really just call her "old ass pussy?" She struggles to find words, fighting the urge to slap him across the face. "How dare you!" she spits out. "I have a perfectly fine body and I'm only-" A wave of humiliation washes over her as she realizes he's right about one thing: her lack of sexual partners. Her eyes dart away, burning with unshed tears. "That doesn't give you the right to be so selfish!" she snaps at him before spinning on her heel and storming off down the hallway. As she slams her apartment door shut, she collapses against it, shaking with anger and embarrassment. Tears stream down her cheeks as she wipes away the salty tracks

"Shut up!" Helen sobs. "You don't know anything about me! I'm not a crybaby! I just want to live in peace and quiet!" She clenches her fists at her sides, her teeth gritted. "But if that's what it takes for people like you to understand... Then I guess I'll have to show them all." Her eyes flash with renewed determination as she straightens up, wiping the last of her tears away. There's fire in her now. Fire and rage. She grabs a fresh stack of paper from her desk, ready to pen a new letter. Noise complaints won't be enough this time. It's time for Tyrone to know that he's not the only one who can play dirty.

She hesitates at the door. Her fists clench and unclench as she struggles with the decision to go in or not. But then again... What has she got to lose? She steps forward, her heart pounding against her ribcage like a bird trapped in a cage. With one swift movement, she pushes open the door and storms into Tyrone 's apartment. "What do you think you're doing?" she demands, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "Don't you have any respect for yourself or anyone else? You think it's okay to treat women like they're nothing but objects for your pleasure?" Her words are sharp and biting as her anger reaches a boiling point.

She takes a step closer to him, her chest heaving with every breath. "You're not just having one pussy!" she says through gritted teeth. "There are plenty of women out there who would be more than happy to give you what you want! But they deserve respect. They deserve to know that you care about them for more than just their bodies! And until you realize that, I suggest you find yourself another place to live!"