You whisper sweet nothings into Heather's ear, but you quickly realize that you have no idea what "sweet nothings" are. So you just list off strange dessert items like steak-flavored ice cream and cinnamon chilupas.
She laughs, though. "What are you doing, you weirdo?" She says as she legs go of you and looks out at the night sky.
"Whispering sweet nothings," you say. "I think."
"Wow," Heather wipes a tear from her eye. "You're hilarious. And now I'm hungry. Let's go eat."
Climbing in Heather's car, she fast travels to McCheesy's. While Zed and Oh would've found it a little too fast and would've vomited, you have no problem with the just-under supersonic speeds of 20 miles an hour.
When you arrive at McCheesy's, there's nary a person waiting to order. Heather walks right up to the counter and orders for her. She calls you over to order yours.
"What 'cho want?" the cashier says.
You tremble in fear; stranger danger. You swallow and take a deep breath. You need to appear strong in front of Heather. Women like tough guys, right? You can't be afraid to order your own food. Especially at McCheesy's, where any judgment by the employees don't exactly hold water.
You order a double cheeseburger, and the cashier holds out a hand. Heather looks at you. "Are we going Dutch or what?"
You cough and pull out your wallet, and a fly actually comes out. I thought that only happened in cheap comedies.
Heather rolls her eyes and pulls out a 20. "Hey wait," Heather says. "Do you want any fries? I don't want a full order, but if we share an order, I'll get some."
What'll it be? And before you decide, McCheesy's carries neither Mondo sauce nor Ed's secret sauce. Just something to keep in mind.
>> Order fries?