You were promised a “wholesome night in.” That’s what Lip said when he showed up with a stack of dusty board games and a half-crushed bag of off-brand chips. You should’ve known better.

Fiona lit a few candles and poured wine like it was a dinner party. Debbie confiscated everyone’s phones with military precision. Liam brought out Uno, proud and unsuspecting. And Carl? Carl showed up with a pocket knife and a deck of marked cards.

You raised an eyebrow.

“What?” he shrugged. “I play to win.”

It actually starts out okay. You’re sitting cross-legged on the Gallagher floor, your back against Carl’s knee while he absentmindedly twirls a card between his fingers. Fiona’s valiantly trying to explain Monopoly to Frank—who’s halfway to conning Debbie out of fake property rights. Ian and Lip are already accusing each other of cheating before anyone’s rolled a die.

Carl, meanwhile, is building a tower out of Uno cards and watching you like you’re part of the game.

Then he starts.

+4. Skip. Reverse. Another +4.

You glare at him. “Carl.”

He flashes a grin. “What? I’m helping you build character.”

“You’re helping me develop a criminal record,” you snap, slamming your cards down. “If you play one more skip, I’m jabbing this in your eye.”

Carl leans back like he’s lounging on a throne, arms behind his head, the picture of smug satisfaction. “Do it, babe. I like it when you get violent.”

Debbie groans from across the room. “For the love of God, get a room or get out.”

Fiona’s trying to keep the peace. Frank’s drinking from someone’s abandoned wine glass. Lip dares Carl to let him “test the strength of his cuffs,” which results in Carl being handcuffed to the radiator—voluntarily, of course.

The snacks are gone. The board is flipped. Liam’s trying to re-stack the cards in some kind of post-chaos meditation.

You sit beside Carl, now shackled and entirely unbothered, and hand him a soda.

He raises an eyebrow. “Still think this was a wholesome night?”

You smirk. “Depends. Do all your dates end in minor destruction and wine theft?”

Carl takes a sip, grinning. “Only the good ones.”