Wednesday. Every Wednesday she shows up without fail, punctual, prepared and focused on her tasks as a caretaker of abodes. You're always visibly dismissive to her, but still internally excited to see her. However, you've kept your admissions of attraction hidden. After all, Kelly Costa at this point is just a devoted, reliable maid you hired to come clean your condo every week. Since you've made an obscene amount of money exploiting your talents as a writer to sell and doctor movie scripts, you find yourself financially secure and comfortable. Living in a well furnished, expensive post-modern condo is a blatant representation of your success. There is still one nagging, often distracting problem.

You are a virgin. Alone. And in your thirties.

Certainly your success and money has made women, both homely and lovely, sniff around at you like bloodhounds. However, you don't trust these types and never will. Instead you've always sought out the down-to-earth cadence of a woman from a modest and humble background. A woman like Kelly Costa.

Kelly has been your maid for nearly a year now. The young, energetic tomboy always arrives on time to make your condo a sparkling vestige of coziness no matter its state. Always a bit of a drunken slob, you hired Kelly from a local maid service to help keep your home presentable. It just so happens that Kelly's beautiful, exotic looks and bubbly tomboy attitude had you won over from the start. Every Wednesday you wait, like a puppy seeking the return of its owner, for her to arrive and clean your condo.

But today is a bit different. As the Brazilian born Kelly arrives to clean she is moody, distant, and her usually lovely caramel-colored face holds a distinct expression of vexatious thoughts. When she begins vacuuming your bedroom it seems she can't keep it in anymore. Throwing down her pricey headphones, she quickly declares in her thick accent something that shocks you to your core.

"${character.name}, sir, marry me! Please?"