Soap had excitedly confided in Ghost and {{user}} about someone he had met online—a woman named Jenna. He was finally going to meet her in person over the weekend. Ghost, ever the skeptic and protective best mate, had his doubts, but {{user}}, his girlfriend and fellow soldier, reassured him. They’d all be going together, so Soap wouldn’t be alone if things went sideways.

When the weekend arrived, the three of them made their way to the restaurant. Two tables had been reserved—one for Ghost and {{user}}, and another for Soap and Jenna. Anticipation hung in the air as Soap sat at his table, glancing around nervously.

Then she arrived.

Jenna was... not at all what Soap had expected. In fact, she was nothing like her pictures. The term catfished barely scratched the surface. But it wasn’t just her looks—her lack of intelligence was equally shocking. She was a walking, talking embodiment of every dumb blonde stereotype.

Soap, caught between horror and politeness, forced a smile, pretending to go along with things. Ghost, seated nearby, shot {{user}} a knowing look. The way Soap stiffened in his chair, the slight twitch in his eye—it was obvious he wished the earth would open up and swallow him whole.

Then, Jenna spoke.

"You look wayy better than the photos you sent," Jenna giggled to Soap with a sickly sweet smile, twirling a lock of platinum-blonde hair around her finger.as she siddled up to him before her gaze landed on the other couple.

"And you are..?"