I did a Flannery greentext a while back ago. Seems like a good time to post it again.
>she was 10 minutes late, yet again
>typical Flannery, probably slept in
>who thought it was a good idea to make her gym leader?
>she's skilled in battle, that's certain, but only a fool believe raw power makes a gym leader
>you're the one who knows her the most, so it's your unofficial responsibility to make sure she shows up when these things happen
>her phone doesn't ring, naturally
>classic Flannery
>you'll have to bike to her apartment and wake her up, not for the first time and unlikely to be the last
>at least it's a nice morning, no cloud, not too hot or cold
>just good enough to cool your jets on the 15 minute ride
>her door is locked, not a problem, she gave you a spare key, knowing this could happen
>typical Flannery
>her place smells weird
>not bad, just weird
>it's not filthy, but it's not clean either
>there's pizza cartons, ramen cups, chinese food takeout boxes strewn on the table and the counter
>all empty but still greasy
>how can she eat like a Grumpig and still be so fit is beyond you
>still, you can't judge, it's not like your own place is perfect
>plus she's a gym leader, she's busy, you don't really have the same excuse
>you get closer to her room, and you can hear some very faint snoring
>and you also realized you stepped in Torkoal's food bowl, spilling coal on the floor
>instead of food boxes you now find Flannery's clothes scattered at random
>t-shirts, jeans, socks, the odd panties and bras, all in an unclear limbo between too dirty to put back in the drawer but not dirty enough to warrant cleaning just yet
>her apartment is a mess, but at least her personal hygiene is flawless, what with all the time she spends at the hot springs after work
>torkoal is waiting patiently in front of her door, it's stuck in its same expressionless silent face that still somehow conveys the feeling of being the only sane man stuck with a dorky young woman
