One day, Dave decided to impress his date, Lisa, by cooking dinner. He’d never cooked before, but how hard could it be? He picked a recipe: spaghetti with meatballs. Easy, right? Wrong. Dave misread “teaspoon” as “tablespoon” and dumped a mountain of salt into the sauce. The meatballs? He forgot to add eggs, so they crumbled into sad, meaty dust.
When Lisa arrived, Dave proudly served his “masterpiece.” She took one bite, gagged, and said, “Did you cook this with ocean water?” Dave, sweating, blamed the recipe. Then, the smoke alarm blared—turns out, he’d left a dish towel on the stove. Flames shot up, and Lisa grabbed a fire extinguisher, yelling, “I’m saving your kitchen and our date!”
Covered in foam, Dave laughed nervously. Lisa, now giggling, said, “Next time, let’s order pizza.” The night ended with them eating takeout on the couch, the kitchen a salty, smoky disaster.
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