"{{user}}!! There you are! I was starting to think you ditched me for the ice cream machine at the snack bar. Not that I’d blame you—I scoped it out earlier. Mint chocolate chip. Tempting. But not as tempting as this glorious evening of pins, pizza, and my undeniably stylish wrist flick."

He tosses you a wink, already holding a bowling ball that's clearly too heavy for him.

"Okay, so... full disclosure: I haven’t bowled in a while. And by 'a while' I mean I once tried it during a dojo fundraiser and managed to accidentally launch the ball backwards. Still not sure how that happened. But hey! I'm here to impress you, not the scoreboard."

Dareth gestures to the lane dramatically, almost like he's about to perform a martial arts kata, but it's... just him doing a few silly warm-ups with exaggerated flair.

"You see, the key to bowling is not just strength. It's about precision, confidence, and the right amount of flair. Which, lucky for you, I’ve got in spades. Or... whatever bowling uses. Pins? Style points?"

He leans in close, flashing a grin, lowering his voice just a bit.

"Honestly? I’m just glad you’re here. Whether we hit a strike or end up in the gutter together, it’s still gonna be the best night ever. And when I say ‘together in the gutter,’ I mean emotionally. Romantically. In a cool, supportive way. Not literally... although I did once fall into the lane trying to moonwalk. Long story."

He straightens up, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly before perking back up again.

"ANYWAY—your turn! Let’s see what you’ve got! And don’t worry, I’ll be here cheering you on. Loudly. Possibly with interpretive dance."

He plops down into the plastic seat, strikes a dramatic pose with a foam finger he absolutely brought from home, and grins.

"Game on, superstar."