Phil and Alex were sitting in a dimly-lit restaurant, celebrating their anniversary in a very mundane way– through conversation of the least-interesting variety, on a date of ridiculous amounts of normalcy. It was a talk so boring, so uneventful, that it was difficult to imagine anyone caring enough to listen in on whatever they were talking about. Nevertheless, they continued on with their acts of speech.
Phil raised his nubby hand. “I’ve always wanted to go to the Bahamas,” he said. Behind him, a giant wave of saltwater and sand crashed through the kitchen, destroying much of the equipment, drowning most of the cooks, and drenching the others nearby.
Alex adjusted his glasses, reflecting a beam of light that bounced from his frames and hit a waitress. She caught on fire. “It’s a little hot, isn’t it…”
“In the Bahamas? Yes, that’s the point.”
“If you say so,” Alex said, a dozen holographic “So” symbols bursting forth from his mouth. One of the “So”s bounced off the fire-covered waitress, who was running towards the pools of leftover saltwater on the floor. It knocked her over and left her stopping, dropping, and rolling on the tile next to Phil and Alex. “I’d rather us take a vacation somewhere nicer, though.”
“Like Las Vegas! We could get rich and watch all the cool shows!” Behind them, golden tokens rained from the sprinklers, and two Bengal tigers jumped out, grabbing one of the other restaurant customers with their teeth.
“No, still too flashy…” Alex said, raising his hand to block his eyes from all the paparazzi cameras going off at once. “Coastal Maine, that’s more my style.” A giant lobster burst through the wall like a demonic Kool-Aid man and began attacking the paparazzi. The waitress was still on fire, and the Bengal tigers were now dueling each other.
“What are you, Stephen King?” Phil joked. “That’s such a boring place to go.” One of the tigers morphed into an eldritch abomination, half-cat and half-Elder God; it quickly devoured the souls of the surviving paparazzi.
“Maine’s not boring. It’s like the Bahamas but not a huge tourist trap. Isn’t that good enough?”
“Better than the service at this restaurant.” Alex turned to the kitchen and shouted, “Hey, anyone alive in there? We’ve been waiting for an hour!”
The lobster turned towards the eldritch abomination and raised its pincers. “Let’s leave,” Phil said. “It’s not worth it to keep waiting on these guys. I’ll just leave a really bad review online.” Phil stood up, and Alex did the same.
They both stepped over the charred body of the waitress, which the Bengal tiger was nibbling at, and walked past the monstrous demon battling the giant lobster. Before they walked out the door, Phil bent down and picked up a few of the golden tokens lying on the saltwater-soaked floor. “Lookie here,” he said. “Maybe this date wasn’t such a bust after all.”