A roast, on the house (this one, anyway)
Everyone's got a friend like Dave.
Dave doesn't have hobbies, he has a rotation. The bike, then the guitar, then the smoker, then the bike again. Four midlife crises sharing one calendar, and none of them talk to each other.
He says “I'm not a planner,” then books the restaurant two weeks out, because the alternative is admitting he planned it. He's been “about to start a podcast” since 2019. He will never start the podcast.
And then he toasts you. Tells the story you've heard eleven times, gets the details wrong, and it's still the best part of the night. Because Dave isn't reliable. He's just always there. There's a difference, and you've built a life on it.
That's the shape: joke, truer joke, turn. Yours would use your friend's actual material, which is worse and better.
$15. Three of those, aimed at your person, in 24 hours. First line doesn't land, you don't pay.