My Landlord’s Daughter
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🤷 My Landlord’s Daughter:
I sat on the sofa in my landlord’s parlor, trying to comprehend the message he had just passed.
“Marry my daughter, and your 6 months rental arrears will be wiped off.”
I was still deep in thought when his mucusy voice wafted in the room.
“My daughter lives in South Africa, and she is an Mm… Mm. Kai. I forgot —”
“MMA fighter,” a voice cuts in.
I peeked at the entrance, and I saw this tall brusque man with a stone-like face, huge biceps, and a huge thigh,
“My boss, good evening,” I turned to the landlord. “Sir, you never told me you had another son.”
The landlord’s wife giggled.
“No, she is our daughter.”
I took another glance and muttered confusingly.
“Wow, your daughter is a she in a he clothing.”
The landlord chuckled,
“It’s the nature of her job.”
She cuts in
“Dad, I will take it from here.” She moved towards me and stretched her hand for a shake. “I am Benita, but my fans call me stretch marks.”
Her palm was like that of a chimpanzee. The grip was painful. I heard my hand bones creaking. I concealed the pain to avoid disgrace.
“Why are you called stretch marks?”
“You know I am a mixed martial art fighter planning to go to the WWE this summer.
So, my punches are so strong that they give my opponent a stretch mark.
Recently, the woman I punched in the chest… her heart got a stretch mark, and the punch I gave wasn’t strong, though.”
My heart beat quadrupled, and I began to sweat all over. I knew I had met my angel of death in human form.
“So, I think you both should go out and sort things.” The landlord suggests.
“Oh. Sir, don’t mind. We can sort things here.” My teeth clattered, and my legs shivered.
She glared and tapped me on the shoulder, my joint nearly dislocated.
“I think we should go out and see what you got. My parents said you are a heavyweight champion in boxing. It would be my pleasure to spar with you.”
I was surprised. I cast a confused glance at my landlord. He gave me a strict look. Out of fright, I responded.
“Ok. Sure. Anthony Joshua was never my match, and I will prove that to you. Common go fetch the fighting gears.”
She hurriedly went inside, and I cast a final glance at them.
“Papa, u say I b boxer?” Tears trickled down my chick.
Then, the landlord’s wife chuckled.
“If he says you are a boxer, then you are a boxer now.”