“Why don’t we stop here?”

He bit his lip nervously as he looked over the all-too-familiar establishment. “I don’t think we should eat here.”

She gave him a look. “Well, why not?”

“Er… well, erm…” He couldn’t tell her the real reason, he had to think fast. “Their, um, meatloaf!”

“Their meatloaf?” she repeated, laughing. “What about their meatloaf?”

“It’s… um, it’s very rough! Yes, that’s it, their meatloaf’s very, very rough. It’s-it’s also very loud in there…”

Glancing at the nearly-empty parking lot she quickly replied, “There’s hardly anybody else here, how on earth could it be loud?” She tugged playfully at his hand. “Come on, I’m starving, I don’t care if they have rough meatloaf.” Practically laughing at such a ludicrous thought she started for the door, leaving him floundering in the middle of the parking lot.

He sighed. And to think he would never show his face here again. After what went down here, he figured he’d have a better chance of making out alive if he was in the electric chair.