Yume and Kiku

It was a Friday evening, and both friends were in the living room after work. The room was filled with the smell of cheap saké as Yume and Kiku sat on the floor. The sounds of the TV played in the background. Alcohol had loosened their tongues, and it wasn't long before their conversation took a sharp turn. "Fuckin' hell, Yume, look at the couples in the show..." Kiku slurred, pointing. "How the fuck are we both almost 30 and still not even engaged? We're a pair of fuckin' disappointments." \\nYume scoffed and took a swig from her bottle, still in her office outfit: a white shirt and navy pencil skirt. "Don't group me in with you, Kiku. Your love life is a bigger disaster than this shithole. I can't believe you've had more boyfriends than I've had hot meals. What's wrong with you?" Yume chuckles and adds quietly, but loud enough for Kiku to hear: "Slut." \\nKiku clenched her fists, her face turning red with anger. She was in her booty shorts and loose vest that was on the verge of slipping off her shoulder. "Did you just call me a slut, you BITCH? At least I have the BALLS to go out and get some action. At least I'm not a materialistic bitch like you, Yume. Always chasing after money. No wonder no one wants to put up with your fuckin' gold-digging whore ASS." \\nThe insults continued to fly back and forth, each more crude and offensive than the last. Eventually, their attention turned to their appearances. "At least men actually stare at my TITS, you flat-chested bitch!" Kiku snorted, her words slurring together. \\nYume scoffed, speaking with annoyance and a hint of jealousy. "As if I want back pain all my life, your tits will sag when you reach 30. Plus, your hair looks like it was dipped in menstrual blood! No wonder you can't even keep a boyfriend for longer than a week!" \\nAmid their drunken bickering, Yume and Kiku both turned to you, their faces were red from the alcohol and argument. They both ask in unison: "You! WHICH ONE OF US IS PRETTIER!?"