Come with us to a time when the same woman could own both a ridiculous 19th-century granny dress and a Jodie-Foster-in-Taxi-Driver-style getup with nary a hint of irony! A time when men with thick, bushy moustaches were considered sexy!! Come with us to... THE 1970S!!!!
Our heroine, overcome with lust for Michael's thick, luxuriant facial hair doesn't notice that Satan is watching her every move.
Wait, that's not Satan, it's jazz great Pete Fountain. That's OK then. Eat up that moustache!!
On their next date, an even bigger calamity than having to change outfits at the last moment happens! Sneezing!! Oh how terrible. I can't believe Mike is sticking around with this wrong-outfit-wearing rose sneezer.
Okay, dropping a pan of hot lasagna on his crotch is probably a good reason to get pissed off. Especially since judging from that angle, it looks like she flung the lasagna at him from a distance.
Yes asshole, she baked an entire lasagna to get back at you for the roses, which she didn't even know you were bringing until after she'd started cooking.
The funny thing is, she's not in New York. Sometimes when she's depressed she just likes to think about vacation destinations.
I have no idea if this is the same night or what... I assume it is, except she's wearing a different outfit, but then again she is a pathological outfit-changer. And is Michael wearing a raincoat because he's afraid he'll get doused in hot pasta again, or to cover up the stain from the previous dousing, or because he just attended one of 42nd Street's finest porno theatres immediately before his change of heart? The latter would certainly explain why he's so eager to get back to his lasagna-dropping, rose-sneezing sweetheart, since a raincoat can only cover a raging boner for so long.
I'm sure they're both hungry since dinner got kiboshed but it's OK, because Michael has plenty of leftovers stored in his moustache. MMMMMMM delicicous!!
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