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>be you
>Omaru Polka's boyfriend
>love her to bits
>she's kind, affectionate, attentive, considerate, and absolutely sexually insatiable
>she's also mildly insane, but you think that adds to her charm
>you try to reciprocate
>as usual, you get ready for your weekly date
>you always enjoy these; Polka wants to watch some shitty rom-com, laughs and tears ensue, followed up by bedpost-shattering intercourse
>tonight she tells you she has something special planned
>you're curious but don't pry; you enjoy surprises
>you unlock the front door to be greeted by a pitch black home
>assuming this is part of Polka's plan, you smile and play along
>you take one step into your home and a freaky Halloween clown pops out complete with flashing red eyes and a sinister electronic laugh
>nearly shit your pants
>"POLKA WHAT THE FUCK?!"
>ominous feminine laughter echoes from somewhere further in
>now assuming this is less of a date and more of an obstacle course, you set your stuff down and pull out your phone
>you click on the light and scan the area, seeing nothing
>another step - another trap
>a shaving cream pie slaps you square on the face
>your love for this woman is bleeding out by the second
>another step
>confetti is blasted out of a hidden cannon that knocks you flat on your ass
>"POLKA WHEN I FIND YOU I'M LOCKING YOU IN THE GARAGE FOR A WEEK!"
>more ominous - and unconcerned - laughter
>now hyper-aware of your surroundings, you don't take another step until you're doubly-goddamn-sure there's no more surprises
>that being said... there aren't any
>Polka seemed to time your focus down to the precise number of pitfalls
>the lights click on and standing in the kitchen is your beautiful fox-clown in shear pink lingerie
>it's almost enough to make you forget about the shaving cream in your nostrils
>on the dining room table is a delicious-looking spread of all of your favorites
>she smiles, kisses you on the cheek, and beckons you to sit
>her sweetness disarms you
>you sit on a Whoopie cushion
>she laughs like a maniac; you're about ready to murder this bitch
>"Oh, c'mon honey, it's harmless fun! Here, let me get your shoes."
>she bends over to take your shoes off... and instead slaps your thigh with an EMS device converted into a handheld joy buzzer
>it hurts and you've just about had enough
>"Listen here you little bitch, I've had just about en--"
>she shoves perfectly roasted chicken into your mouth and sits on your lap, wiggling in place for max comfiness
>"I love you too, honey."
Wat do?
