Marla Stag, 34, purchased the mobile home not just for affordability—but for strategic emotional zoning. “If I’m going to let a man inside my home, he’s not taking over my pole room,” she told Stagtire with a look usually reserved for court dates and karaoke face-offs.

Sources close to the situation confirm the pole room serves as a dedicated spiritual vortex for grief processing, midair reinventions, and backbending over heartbreak. “This is not a shared space. This is not a multipurpose den,” Marla said. “This is where I ascend. He can spiral somewhere else.”

Her partner, Iris (34, hoodie enthusiast, emotionally avoidant), was reassigned to the Emotional Overflow Room, a neutralized containment chamber located on the opposite end of the home. The room features a mattress on the floor, one hoodie hook (approved by Yarrow the rabbit), and a gentle sense of existential dread.

“I appreciate having my own room,” Iris said. “But I do sometimes wake up to soft thumping bass and her screaming something about 'not brushing her teeth for emotional symbolism.' I respect it.”