'You don't have to live up to your name, you know', I said carefully wading through the mess in search of a clean patch of carpet, 'That nominative determination thing is a load of bollocks'.
Gross smirked. 'Yeah, but you would say that, wouldn't you, Woodcock? Don't want people to think you've Pinocchio's nose instead of man meat.'
'I don't want them to think I've a nose or meat down there. I'm a girl!'
'Oh.' He pulled his greasy hair out of his eyes. 'Sorry Holly.'
I stopped and leaned on a fairly staple pile of newspapers. 'My name is Poppy.'
He waved a dismissive hand. 'Eh, doesn't matter. If my name was Gross Best Friend, maybe I'd bother to remember, but it's not, so I don't.'
'You can't keep using your name as an excuse for everything, Gross.'
'Can't I?' He sneezed, farted, then belched. 'Huh, what do you know? Looks like I can.'
'That's it!' I turned around and carefully started to make my way to the front door.
'Wait - what - where are you going?'
'I'm getting a hoover and a hose! From now on, at the very least, your house will be clean.'
'No!'
'Yes. I'm doing it and you can't stop me. If you try, I'll spray you with the hose.'
He hissed. 'You wouldn't...'
'I would.'
We glared at each other. Eventually he threw his hands up in the air. 'Fine. Go ahead. Clean my place.'
'I will do. And Gross?'
'Yes?'
'We are no longer acquaintances.'
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