I wouldn’t ride in on a noble steed.
It’d be a tauntaun.
Much like myself it would smolder with hatred and be high. All the time.
I’m going to **** in your garden before I knock on your door.
I’ll accidentally **** on the fairies in your garden. They’ll never let it go.
My tauntaun is going to attempt to mount your unicorn.
If you live in a mushroom, I’m going to lick it.
I’ll take you down by ******* river to watch the nymphs do battle with the pixies.
It’s a racial thing.
Our centaur waiter will bring us pork and meade.
I’ll mock his political views and we’ll be asked to leave.
You’ll like be horrified that I feed my tauntaun the hopes and dreams of children.
I’ll ask to accompany you to rainbow valley for a stroll amongst the fireflies of bliss.
You’ll comply because rohypnol.
By the time you come back around. I will have burnt down rainbow valley and the fireflies of bliss have been pimped out to the honeybees of discontent.
You’ll be unscathed. Don’t flatter yourself. It’s a first date. You could be ripe with chlamydia.
By the time we get back to your ****** up house of fungus. We will have grown weary of one another.
We feign a hug and go our separate ways. You’re going to go cry in the shower of happiness and I’m going to fight a homeless leprechaun.