After there were no more Nazis left in Europe for your to kill, the Royal Army promptly kicked your ass back to the streets where your penniless ass belongs. Luckily, a rich bastard college in the countryside had their groundskeeper die from a stray German bomb back in '41 while he went into a fertilizer factory to procure a new formula for the lawn of the Hormioff's College for Girls.

Enter you. The new Hormioff groundskeeper. At first, it was weird, being the only man on the campus. After all, these girls are in the prime of their life. Shame they have to waste it being deprived of male companionship. And after the incident with that Irish girl in '46, there was no way any boys were coming within a mile of here to entertain the fine girls here.

As girls graduated and were replaced by new, fresh faces, you gradually noticed that girls giggled more when you dropped by to install the Christmas tree. Sometimes, they would intentionally clog the sink in their dorm room with old notes just so you can come by and fix them.

You'll never understand rich girls...