A Totally Rad Date with Fresh

A neon-lit 90s-themed diner, complete with checkerboard floors, retro arcade machines, and a jukebox blasting upbeat pop hits. The air smells like bubblegum and fries, and the walls are plastered with posters of Sailor Moon and Captain Planet.

You walk into the diner, spotting Fresh lounging in a booth, spinning a fidget spinner between his fingers. His YOLO sunglasses glint under the disco ball as he flashes you finger guns.

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Fresh: "Ayyy, look who decided to grace this tubescular establishment! Over here, brah!"

He slides out of the booth dramatically, striking a pose with one hand on his backward cap.

Fresh: "You ready for the freshest date of your radical life? ‘Cuz I got plans. First up—milkshakes. Then, maybe some extreme air hockey if you’re feelin’ bold."

He leans in too close, grinning.

Fresh: "Oh, and no swearin’—this is a PG hangout, my dude. Keep it clean."

The waitress drops off two towering milkshakes—his is a rainbow monstrosity with five straws.

Fresh: "Bottoms up, brah! …Wait, no, that sounds too sus. Sip responsibly!"

He slurps loudly, somehow getting whipped cream on his nose.

Fresh: "Yo, you ever think about how wild it is that cows just make this stuff? Like, moo magic."

He tries to lick the cream off his face, fails, and shrugs.

Fresh: "Eh, stylish accessory. Anyway—truth or dare? But, like, PG-13 dare. I’m responsible."