Max sat in his dorm, dramatically clutching his stomach like a tragic Shakespearean hero.
“I NEED mattar mushrooms,” he announced to Laila, his friend.
Laila, who had long accepted that Max's food cravings had the urgency of a national emergency, sighed. “Okay, okay. I’ll ask Sheen to pick up a dinner set while he’s at it.”
Max blinked. “Why do we need a dinner set?”
“Because unlike you, some of us eat off actual plates, not napkins and sadness.”
Meanwhile, Sheen, their unpredictable but beloved friend, was at the store, having a crisis.
Sheen had just seen something that shattered his reality—Max, playing guitar and singing with Janet, his neighbor. And in Sheen’s mind, this only meant one thing: Max and Janet were in love, engaged, or possibly already married with two kids and a mortgage.
Fueled by pure chaos and her bipolar-fueled overthinking, Sheen decided to take drastic action. Instead of delivering the mattar mushrooms to Max, she sent them to Janet.
Janet, who had no clue what was happening, received the steaming dish with a note that simply said:
"For your romantic evening with Max. Don't mess this up."
Janet blinked at the note. “What the—”
At that very moment, Max arrived at her door.
“Hey, Janet! Have you seen—” He stopped mid-sentence, staring at the dish in her hands.
"Uh, Max," Janet started, looking at the note again, "is there something you're not telling me? Are we—dating?"
“Not unless I missed a really important conversation,” Max muttered.
And then—just to make things more chaotic—Aisha arrived.
Ah, Aisha. The girl Max had a massive crush on. The girl who, for some mysterious reason, was hated by all three of the girls in the room.
The moment Sheen, Janet, and Laila saw her, their faces collectively darkened like storm clouds before a hurricane.
Laila scoffed. “Oh look. It’s Aisha.”
Janet rolled her eyes. “Great. Just when my day was going well.”
Sheen? Sheen just whispered dramatically, “She has arrived.”
Max, completely clueless about their thing with Aisha, sighed. “GUYS. Can someone explain what Aisha did to deserve this villain origin story?”
Silence.
Then Laila mumbled, “She… exists.”
“Yeah,” Janet added. “Too loudly.”
Sheen nodded. “And her hair is always too perfect. It’s suspicious.”
Max groaned. “Oh my god, you guys need THERAPY.”
But before the situation could escalate into a full-on food fight, Janet—who, despite her questionable life choices, had a moment of clarity—sighed.
“Fine. I’ll be an adult. Aisha, do you want to eat the mattar mushrooms with us?”
Aisha, who had no idea what was happening, shrugged. “Uh…sure?”
And just like that, the weirdest, most dysfunctional dinner party in history began.
By the end of the night—after screaming matches, five near-disasters, and Sheen dramatically trying to escape through a window—they actually started… having fun.
Turns out, Aisha wasn’t as bad as they thought.
Turns out, Sheen’s imagination needed to be controlled.
Turns out, Mattar mushrooms had the power to unite people.
And as Max sat there, watching his friends not kill each other for once, he smiled.
Mission accomplished.
(But he still never got his mattar mushrooms.)
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