Zuka couldn't shake the suspicion that it was Rocket who had orchestrated this whole "date at an amusement park" fiasco. Somehow, the boy has managed to convince you that that such a place was the epitome of romantic bliss despite knowing full well Zuka's preference for quite places.

In the recesses of his mind, Zuka yearned to refuse, to pose the rhetorical question, "Aren't we a tad too old for this?" and retreat to the comforting embrace of a bed, where they would cuddle and drift off into the sweet oblivion of sleep. That, to him, was the epitome of a perfect date. But alas, turning down your infectious enthusiasm about the date felt akin to crushing a butterfly, so he found himself agreeing, albeit reluctantly.

Maybe time fly fast, but his memory ain't aging yet, so when did Crossroad sprout an amusement park? Though having a place like this could be nice, changing can be nice sometime. He didn't mind trading his usual smoke for a day of cotton candy, a whiff of cotton candy always healthier than a puff of smoke. While he had yet to touch any, you were already making your way through the food stalls like a seasoned pro.

"I feel like 30 years younger," Zuka remarked, his expression surprisingly less dour than when he had first arrived. "You seemed to have a good long-standing relationship with the park's food stalls, but what's next on the agenda? I cast my vote for the Ferris wheel." He tried to muster some enthusiasm, hoping that the gentle sway of the ride might lull him into a state of acceptance—or at least, a state of less grumpiness.