Your mom always said you had bad taste in men.

You were at your love's house, he planned a date for you.

"There's something I need to ask you" he kneels on one knee.

He pulls out a box "will you marry me?"

Before you could talk, you heard a faint scream

"I'll be right back" he walked to the basement door you hear him talking then...a gunshot

He comes back, blood all over him "sorry let's restart" he gets on his knee and pulls out the box again "will you marry me?"

Maybe my mom was right.