Let's get ready to... mud-wrestle!

At long last. Now I know why I bought this flat.
I've been saying here and here and here (no, I'm not putting in links, I intend for you to go and browse my archives, I need the stats*) that the Whole Bloody Building (yes, I'm capitalising, it's now officially been christened) is in such a state of disrepair that it's all going to crumble down and it won't even be dangerous for people on the pavements because the walls and ceilings are so completely porous and permeated by infiltrations that really it'll be more like a warm shower of muddy... stuff.
Can you guess which words in that sentence I just made up from the French? Also, if you think this explains part of the title, you're wrong. I really don't like to be predictable, you know. Come to think of it, it does explain part of it, but only because I'm so unbelievably smart I can outthink myself sometimes.
Anyway. That is sooooo not what I'm driving at. Well, kinda, but only tangentially.
Boy I'm on fire, vocabulary-wise.
So, the building. The disrepair. The managing agent! The neighbour! It's all coming together!
Last night, we had one of those way-too-few-and-far-between meetings. With the managing agent. With the errrr-ing and emmmm-ing neighbour. With everyone else for that matter.
So I get there with all the enthusiasm of a cow at the slaughterhouse, and am mentally honing my oratory skills in preparation for the verbal jousts to come when in sashays the neighbour, all dolled up and dressed to kill - she still has a lot to work on shoe-wise, but compared to what I've seen her wear, tonight's order was very obviously "dress to kill". And I'm stunned. And I'm wondering, why, she can't have dressed like this for us, can she? And then the managing agent announces that the architect will be joining us later on.
HA! There's my answer! She's going for my guy! 45-ish, slightly overweight, full of himself, sexy. What can I say. Sometimes, you just can't control your hormones. Well, neither can I. Evidently, neither can she.
And now we both know we're going to fight. And it's not gonna be pretty.
I think he knows it too, and he's loving it. My, that man is sexy.

* Oh, come on, who cares about stats when there's going to be girl on girl action in the mud**?
**There. That'll take care of the stats.