Enoch_takes_Playwright_to_IHop.txt

"How am I supposed to do this, L1M?" Enoch sighs, collapsing back onto the couch.

"Oh, I don't know," L1MB0 chuckles, "Stop being a little bitch about it?"

Enoch sighs, seeming slightly offended.
"What?? How do you expect me to be about it then! It's not really every day you get to ask out a hot inte̴̳̮̲̯̻͓̲͔̤͖͙̥͇̔̈͝r̷̞͈̺͍͙͚̺̣̐̆́̄̐̿̃̄̆͆̉̍̎̉̅͜d̷͖̘̬̳̠̼̘̣͍̻̬͒̀̍̎͝į̷̛̯̲̠̪̩̘͑̆͒̂̈́̃͐m̵̫͖̟̀͊̄͒́̈ȩ̴̩̰̰̞̭̖̭̰͐̌͊̈́͆̄̇̏͜͝ͅͅn̶̬͎͕̽͛̎ş̸͕̞̜̤̩̆͆̋̈́͝i̶̦̠̝̝̰͙̗͉̽͌̌̈͋̇̔͐̿̀̈́͗͜͝ơ̷̢̯̬̘̘̓̎͒̍̉̊̋́͑́͝n̵̼͉̫̞̘̒͂̈́̑͑͜a̶̧̬͎͖͔̮͂͐͛͗͝l̵̢̨̨͈̖̦̦̤̬̗̤͕̓́̓̎̂̅̍̾̐̈́̎̀̄͠͝ ̴͙͇̺̐̒͂̓͑́̓̂͂̈̇̚̚b̶̨͖̮͚̮̱̣̘̫̻͒͌̇͛̆̌͂̈́͋̽̓̕͜͝ę̷̢͙̪͚̖̙̤̎̇̈̿̀͜ḯ̶̡̡̱͖̭͎̲̹̖̹̗̲͉͎̏̊̽̎͋̿ñ̷̡̪̘̘̘́͗g̸̡̢̰̩̺̘̬͎̞̰͔͎̦͎̲̓̈́̇̿̋̈́̔̿͌̏̓̿͒͘͠ ̶̛͖̇̇́̍̑͆̐̈̉͂͘w̷̠̬̖͎̹͎̙͎̟̓̎h̴̛̖͖͚͖̼̖͖͑̑̐̍̿͋͒͒͋̓͝o̴͚͆̅̔̿́̒̍̓̽̐̕͘͠ ̶̭͍̱͙̮̟̦͒͆̏̅̇͘͘͠m̵̦̬̱̙̬̝̜̙̂̄̚ă̶̡̅̎̐̀̋̈̈́̊̆͐̀̚͠ķ̷̟͇͇̯̰͔̬̬̘̼͐̂̒͒͜e̴̢̺̲̭̣̲͔̹͔̘̬̿̀͐͛̀̇̏̓̃̕͘ş̷̧̛̞̭͎̦̩̠̯̤̰̣̬̄̄̇͊͋̇̊̓̌͛̀͜ͅ ̷̰͇͖̖̦̹̇̋̔̃̃̉͗͐m̸̼̌̆̋̇͒̊̎e̶̥͈͖͓̗̹̟̤̪̣͕͇̓̊̅̽̎̿̊͘ ̴̠̮͍̮̭͍̝̽̿͂̌̍̽̔̿̑̕͝f̸̨̳̭̩̲̓́́̑͑̎͊e̸̼̤̰͕͗́͆̑͂͛̑͜͠ȩ̶̛̖̝̬̰̓̆̏̓̑͝l̵̨̥͕̞̩̬̪͖̯̠̆̐̀̆́͑͐͑̚̚ ̸̛̘̝͍̱̿̂̾͐̌́͘̕͝l̵̨̧̡̜͚̬̺̼̠̣͔̜̐̾̾̽̈́̑̉̈́͌͂̋̌̃͜i̵̛̛̠̲̠̦̺̤̙̗͔͆̄͊̊̅͝͝k̵̡͇͖̬̱̦̻͂͌́͒͒͑̈́̄͆̐̋͛͠͝ȅ̷̢̗̰̳͇̐̆͆̀̌̓͊̾̌̕ ̵̨̢̞̫͚͇̥̲̯͎̞͕͍̆́͌̋̇̐̃̈́̄͘͘͝I̵̡̡̟͉͍̖͔̊̓̌'̷̡̲͚͖̯̘̯̫̠̝̠͑͐͆͆͒̄͜m̵̡̢̢̢̯̟͙̼̺̣̜͎̰̣̙̊̾̾͐͠ ̶̗͚̹̮̹̆̀̈̽͂b̵̥̮͈͇̅̆͆͜ĕ̸̢̡̬̱̬̮̪̝̝͈̳̬̍̓̎́̂̈́̈̚i̴̝̺͗̏̐͑́̀̄̈̈́̄̇̈̏͂n̶̡̧̧̛̛̘̟̙̠͈̰̦̪̭̾̀̾̿̀͆̀͋͂̀̑͝g̶̫̰̝̮̈́̾͋̋̽̃̀̊̊̈́̑ ̵͓͉͙̣̬͓͍̣̥͇͙̒̇w̶̢̛̋̏͛a̴̢̟̲͠t̶̘̮̭̰̘̞̽̈̒̽͒́͂̎̓̉͠ĉ̴̢̤͙̇̇͘h̷͖̻͔̓̓͋̋͑̃́̒̇̄͠ͅe̷̤̫̮͇̹̖̲̮̣̔d̶̜̭̈́ ̴̡̨̨̫̲̖̖̖̗̳̱̹̀ͅb̶̨̤̳̦̟̣͎̳͕̜͖̣̙͍̱̆̀̑̇̆͠y̸͉͉͍̮̦̬͉͕͉̮̝̌̇̄̿̔̓̾́͛́̚͝ ̵̳̤͉͛̇͆̅̂̋̌à̸̧̞̣̳̫̭͇̪͚̜͎̠͇̍̉͐͜n̷̡̯̥̬̭̹͖̹͓̥̤̼̥͋̈̋̏͑͛͆͘̚̕ ̴̢͈̞̦̟͇̫̲̬̼̩̤͕͂̑̐͌̄̈́͘͝͝e̷̛̞͍͙̣̟͉̩͙̍̈́́̔͆̐̃́̋̕̕̕n̶̘̳̩͇̹̖̻͐͋̕̚t̷̤̻͔̥͖̥̤̺̘̗͉̺͔̰̄́̋͋͗̍̊͊̉̎̎̐͘͝i̷̲͉̹͆̊͂̑̃̎̆͐͂̈́̆̑͘̚͜r̶̛̯̗̮̒̊̚é̶͈̠̜̱͔͇̭͐̾̐͜ ̸͓̦͉͆̿̂͒̒͋̋u̶̼̼͎̲̼̭̘̍̌̈̽͜ǹ̶̞̖̯ỉ̶̳̲̊͐̐̿̈́̄̈́v̴̨̗͇̩̩̣̝̞͉̻̻̹͇͇̜͊̉̒̆͠è̷̡͍͖͛̍̍̄̽͗͂̽̀͝͝r̴̡͚̩̲̊̃̅̿̒̓̈́s̷̨̠̯̲̯̻̥̥̪͙͐͒͋̆̃͂͂̉͘͠ͅͅè̸̤͍̤̈́ out on a date to IHOP!"

L1MB0 stares in bewilderment.
Enoch stares back.
This goes on for a good few minutes.
"...You're fucking with me, right?"

"NO! I'm NOT! That's the thing!!"

"YOU CHOSE IHOP???"

"YEAH??? WHAT'S WRONG WITH IHOP???"

"EVERYTHING! IT'S NOT FANCY AT ALL!"

Enoch gets up with a huff, playfully shoving L1M out of his way.
"Yeah??? I dunno about you, but if they kissed me expecting anything other than like... IHOP or Denny's or like. Buffalo Wild Wings, then I feel like they should reconsider who they're dating??? But maybe they deserve better??"

"Well, that's not the issue here!"

"What???? It's NOT???"

"Enoch."

He huffs, aggitated.
"What."

"You're wearing a suit. To IHOP."

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...Ok. Maybe this wasn't the best idea.
Enoch stands in front of tall mirror, observing himself.
6', as he prefers... Flame body, as per usual... Rings spinning in sync, no chips or cracks present...
And then the fancy white and gold suit fit for a wedding more than a monday night date at IHOP.
He sighs.
"I'm in way over my head, aren't I."
Overdressed? Yeah.
Underprepared? Yeah.
About to be late? Y- WAIT FUCK
Enoch bolts out of the room, making sure to grab his carkeys on the way out.

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"Are you alright, Darling?"

Enoch glances over to Playwright, then back to the road a couple of times.
"..Whhat do you mean?? Why WOULDN'T I be alright!"

"You're hunched over like a goblin."

"....."
"Well. You're ALSO hunched over!!"

"That's because you drive a vintage Volkswagen Beetle, Darling. My head is 2 seconds from going through the roof!"

"...WELL."

'You're also sweating. You can be honest with me, my love."

"..."
No, he CAN'T be honest with them! What, is he just supposed to admit he's almost gotten into 3 car accidents this drive because of their very presence?? It's not like Enoch isn't USED to being watched like this, Layer 9 is like being the center of the whole world's attention, but THIS???
It's... different.
Flustering, even.

"Darling? You're almost going to hit a pedestrian again."

Enoch SWERVES.
"OHFUCKOHSHIT"

Thankfully, he swerves directly over the sidewalk into the IHOP (41.805271439664, -71.34118467647838) parking lot.

The Playwright smiles.
"Oh, look! We're here!"

Enoch, gripping the wheel so hard it's beginning to burn, takes a deep breath and tries to relax.
"Yes. We are. That's good! Great. Ok. Let's go."
He takes out the carkeys and gets out of the car, adjusting his suit.

"You seem a bit tense, my love."
The Playwright stands up, clipping through the roof of the Volkswagen. They step out of the car.

Enoch stares for a moment.
"Wh. Ok. Well!!! Maybe???"
He sighs and walks over to the Playwright, giving them a hug.
"It's just... You know. First date anxiety, plus L1MB0 being a shithead as always.

The Playwright gives Enoch's rings a pat, causing them to bounce slightly.
"It surprises me how much of a worrywort you can be, Enoch. It's charming."

He blushes.
"Tthanks??? I guess??"
He huffs, unhugging The Playwright and grabbing their hand.
"L1M was also giving me shit for wearing a suit, but-"
He glances back, seeing the beautiful, mask-headed, 7' tall, suit-wearing entity he gets to call his Wusband and/or Hife.
"On second thought, it's not really a problem."
Enoch begins to lead the Playwright through the door.

"El Oh El."
"I think it looks good on you, my love. You take L1MB0's taunts too much to heart."

"If you say so."

The couple enters the IHOP (41.805271439664, -71.34118467647838) interior.

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Well, this is...
Nice.
As nice as one could get, anyway.

As the two entered the IHOP, people immediately started fleeing. In terror, screaming and crying. Some even having mental breakdowns on the way out!
Enoch was feeling it too.
The Playwright's overwhelming presence, like you're there for everybody to see.
...
At least the service will be quick now! Because there's. Nobody else in the IHOP.

The Playwright looks around, smiling.
"It's nice, now that everyone stopped screaming! Infernal racket, I swear."
"How are you, Darling? Everything alright?"

Enoch shuffles in his seat, gripping the legs of his pants in a (hopefully) unnoticable way.
"Yeah! For sure. Trust me!"
"You look pretty tonight, PW. I'm glad you agreed to come here, considering... Y'know. Everything."

"Oh, it's alright! Why wouldn't I want to go out to eat with my treasure, hmm?"

"You're. Adorable, actually."
Enoch chuckles.
"Do you know what you're going to get to eat?"

The Playwright observes the menu.
"Hmmm..."

A worker who seems on the verge of tears strolls up to the table, shaking violently.
"Wwhwhhw..w,jbh.wyhwgatrgwbnill..."
They take a deep breath.
"HI welcome to IHOP what would you like to ORDER?!??!?!"
They're terrified.

Enoch looks to them.
"Can I get the Big Farmhouse BreakFEAST:TM:?"

They nod and look to Playwright.
"Mmmhm,,, and what abbout.. you ssir or madame..??"

"Can I get a s̶̡̡̧̛̛̛͍̯̗̮̤͎͈̯̞͇̥̪͚̟̭̭͙̟̣̳̘̝͎̜̰͓̯̭̳̗̼̹͉͚̪̤̠̞̗̝͑̔̽̄́̉̊̏͋̀̈́̈́̐̃͊̂̽̓̈́̍̔͐̍̐̉̃͛́͆̕ͅͅţ̶̗̗͇̪̰͙̞̘̳̯̩͈̖̱͎͔̄̿̃̂͛̀̉̔̾͌́́̌̆͗̉̇̔͌͐̇́́̆͘͜͜ṛ̵̭̞͉͉̳̟̺͈̯̻̪͎̩̫̺̯̫̦̘̬͉̎̒͜͜ą̶̡̛̣̳͓̩̪̳͓̠̟̫̹̗̬̩̘̮̩̩͕͙͕̹̜̪͙̦͚̮͎͇͓͍̤̣̤͈̖̠̭̓̈́͌̈́̆̀̅̉̂̔̂̓͒̊̋̆̀̽̏̓͗̇̋͛͒̿̽̆͗͗̾̚̕͘̕͜ͅͅẇ̵̢̤͓̱̜͔͓̪͖͕̗͕̳̯͈̜͔̪̝͉̘̠̬͙̙̩͚̮̖͔̤̳̣̀̓̆̃͒̇͆̎͋̈́͋̓̇̏̃̆͆̚̕͜͜͜͝͠͝͝͝b̴̡̡̡̢̧̘͎̙͇̳͎͈̗̯͇̰̙̺͙̭̹̺͖̮̞̲͕͔̗̭̟̠̼̟͚̟͕̗͚̣̹͈̃͛͆̓̾̋̉̀̔̃̈́̿̑̔̏͆̒̽͆̌͐̂͑͛̾͛̊̈́̋͜͜͜͠͝ͅë̷̛̩̩̌̊͌̽͋̈́̒̂̈̈́͑͌͆̊̈́̇͆̀̈́̽̄̈͗̕̕͝r̷̡͙̼̞̩̥͇̩̞̼̣̥̭̮͎̞̙͕͕̟̲̣̪̻̯̝̉̇̓̆̍̏̐͛̔̕͜͠ͅͅṙ̴̡̡̨̧̢̢̛̳̬̥̗͖͎͖̞̰̥̣̼͉̣̞͔͕̠̻͚͔͎̫̮͎͖̳͕͚̈́͆̓̄͒͐́̍̃̔̓̀͛͛̉͊͋̃͗͒͗̓̆̈́̏̏̿͆̀̀̌͆̏͌̈́̆͂͆͘̚͘͜͠͝͠y̴̧̨̛̰͓̺̙̭͉͓̬̞͓̼̗̗͓̹̭̼̳̪͓͍̜̜̤͆͋̇͐̈́̈́͌́̀̒̔̿̎̓́̐̈̂̽̄͂̔͆̀̆͗̄̔͑̌͑̓̕̚͘͘ ̵̪̭̣̑̽͛͋̈́̇͛̄̈̋̍̃͌̉̀̕͜͠m̴̢̹̹̖̫͎̳͕̥̥̭̙͎̫͉̟͉̀͌̔̈́͒̈́͂͊́͜i̴̡̩͍̫̹͍͈̯̖͇̲̣̜͓̻̗̠͖̬̼̙̻̲͖̣͇̟̽̓́̆̔̾̅͒̒̕͜͝ͅl̶͈̪̼̘̺͙̋̃͂̌̒̑́̅͒͊̿̓̋̅͒͒̋̅̏̾̅̆̄͘͝ķ̸̜̬̤͓̭͔̺̙̫͚̲̣͖̘̖͓͔͇̗̲̹͉̲͓̣̱̺͔̤̝̙͚̬̼͈͖̫͕̲̫̘͖̩͆̑̈͆̈͗̊̇̓̀̈́̅̕͜͝͝ͅͅͅs̸̗̹̯̪͍͓̟͍͓̘͍̰̗͙͙̓͆̎̈́̒́̓̊͐͋̈́̍̐̈̀̏̋͑͐̈̾̌̿h̴̨̰͔̩͈̜̹̦̦͍̝̺͖͉̟͔̗̺͉̠̪̬̤̽̂ͅả̸̛̘͇̮̺̱̭̖̝̬̪̜̘̖̝̩̩̀̓̀̓̂́͋̈́̍̈́̂̈́̈́͑̐̂̎̈́̓͂͌̇̌̇̇̓̑͐̂̀̾̓̆̄̕̚͘̕̕͝͠͠k̶̨̳͇̥̖̹̲̘̝̱̠͇͉͕̻̈́͛̅̈́̉̌͛͂͑̐̉͑̌̔̐̽̏̾͑͊̇͑́̈́̔́̿̒̍̈́̾̿̔̔̈̏͒̐̚̚͝͠͠͝͠͝͝e̴̢̱̰̣͓̙̅́̈̀̾̌̌̑?"

The Waiter begins crying blood.
"yyubgjyf,,,Yrythge.."
The waiter runs into the kitchen screaming.

Enoch stares at them and looks back to The Playwright.
"What.. was that??"

The Playwright clears their throat.
"Sorry about that, Love. I need a good drink, my throat is sore!"

A 90s Sitcom Laughtrack plays.

Enoch looks around, gripping the table.
"WHAT???"
He looks to PW.
"WHAT WAS THAT."

"El Oh El. You know. My fans!"

The laughtrack plays again.

Enoch sits down, trying to relax.
"That's nice, PW."
"..."
"How was your day?"
Might as well try some smalltalk.

"Oh, good! I stalked A̴̧̢̢̧̢̤̘̪͚̤̮̞̺̙̙̮͉̘̳̯̎̓̑͠ͅr̸̢̧̧̧͉̝̳̩̮͓͈͕̼͕̙̲͋̾̐̾̍̄̍̃̎͑̎̋͝i̶̧͎͈̬̝͈̩̫͎̭̇͜m̵̬̰̳̥̪͇̱͓͍̭̠̀̿̀́͜͜į̶͚͍̗̩̳̭̏̀́̿̇͆ͅd̴̛̮̱̲̝̭͉̱̹̰̮̰͍̥͒͛̂̓̄̀̇̀̔̏͐̕é̴͉̤͖͕̖̩̼͈͓͈͈͕͔̣̲̘͙̅̓̑̍̈́͛͒̌̓̒̋́̕͝x̴̗̗̣̩̪̮̹̥͊̃̽͝ͅ ̴̣̙̑̈́̓̍̚͝H̴͎̭̺̰̘͍͍̝͔̹͔͍̺̯̘̖̻̾͑̋͜͝͠ȩ̶̮̺̯̼̬̱͇̲̯͉͓̙̲̦̫̙͈̪̟͇̽a̷͓̠̥͎̎̈́̾̋͌̎̌͝͝t̷̢̛̳̬̟̬͎̥̱̗̬̦͇̗͖͙͙̪̆̈́̾͋͒͑̑̄̽͊͘h̷̨̡͍̜͓̅͒͐̀̀͒͗͌͜͠r̵̖̂̀̑͑̍̃̅̊̓͆̿̿́̕͝ō̵̡̞̘̖̩͓̼̭̳͔̩̰͉͗w̶̛̠̜̻͕̥̒̆̌̈́̈́̕ for the 6th time this month, it went well."

"That's good, Honey."

"What about you?"

Enoch taps his claws on the table.
"Pretty interesting. To say the least."

"Oh? How so?"

"..."
"Don't worry about it!"

"El Oh El. Alright."

The bleeding, crying Waiter returns with Enoch's food and Playwright's milkshake.
"enbhgrhj,,oy.."
They die on the spot.

Enoch and Playwright stare down at them.
"..."
"..."

"That's.."
Enoch sighs, turning to his food.
"Let's just eat."

The Playwright smiles, drinking their milkshake.

This is going to be an interesting night...

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