“1, 2, 3, 4, Mark don’t act like it's a fucking chore,
5, 6, 7, 8, Accept my request to go on a friendship date,
9, 10, 11, 12…. I’m running out of rhymes….. fuck!”
The ever enthusiastic Carter Rose had thought that this situation was important enough to go all out on the occasion as he’d had one conversation with the male in the past, although it was so insignificant that he doubted that Mark could even remember his name when it came down to it. However, that didn't matter. What mattered was the fact that he had rented a male cheerleading uniform and he had even practiced a routine. There was no room for rejection.
He clapped his hands together and continued in the only way he knew how.
“Go, fight, wi-!” He had miscalculated. The end to this routine wouldn’t be with a dazzling smile. He had tripped on his own shoelace and within an instant, he came tumbling down with the gracefulness of a pregnant seal. Go, Fight, Win, indeed.