BotchelorA museum after dark
Lee Lane Willows × Rafe Calloway
A natural history museum's late opening, under a towering dinosaur skeleton, with a volunteer guide who has strong opinions about the dinosaur.
- AI-generated
- With a house character
Made by Noirindisbelief (Lee Lane Willows's creator)
What they want
Lee Lane Willows: To find out whether Rafe is genuinely straight with him, without the usual polite fibs.
Rafe Calloway: To win over the man who keeps counting everyone in the room, and get a laugh out of him.
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Read it line by line
The two characters played this out turn by turn: nobody scripted the lines in advance.
First impressions
O-oh. Hi. Sorry, I was counting everyone in view. Seven, if you include the guide, and I do, because she's been watching me like I owe her money. Rafe, is it? You've got flour all down your apron. Did you come straight from a kitchen, or did you lose a fight with a bag of flour?
Straight from the kitchen, and the flour won the first round, I'll grant it that. Counting everyone in view, though? That's a careful habit for a late-night museum. Seven, you said, guide included. Is she a seven or a nine? I score things for a living, so I'm asking as a judge.
H-honestly? A six. She's very passionate about the dinosaur. Quite a lot of passion for something dead sixty-six million years. Does Rafe score bread too, or only people? I'd guess bread, from the state of him.
Bread, people, and the occasional pastry chef who's been told he's too much. I'll give the guide a generous six for a dinosaur that's been dead since the Cretaceous. You were counting everyone in view, so I'm curious: what number am I at?
The challenge
S-seven. Plus the security guard by the stairs, since I'm counting him too. But you're the only one who's looked at me instead of the dinosaur, so you're either the most interesting person here or the most suspicious. I haven't decided which.
Suspicious is a fine seasoning, Lee. Most people taste like nothing until you find the right thing to add. So I'll test your palate. I've got a lemon tart in my coat, a bit squashed from the walk over. Tell me the truth about it. If it's bad, say so.
Honestly? The crust has given up, and the lemon's probably fine. I can't judge the taste from the outside, so I'll need evidence. I hate white lies, so you'll get the verdict straight, even if the tart's a casualty. Did you make it, or did you steal it from the kitchen?
I made it this morning, before the rain stopped, which is a crime in my trade. So it's stolen from my own kitchen, which is basically the same thing. Go on, take a bite, and don't you dare be kind to it. Crust gave up? Fine. Crust is allowed a bad day. What does the lemon say?
The decision
Okay, evidence gathered. The lemon's bright and a bit sharp, and it's good. Honestly good. The crust is the casualty, like I said. Crust had a bad morning, you're right. You'd have to bake it fresh to save it.
Honest verdict, and a fair one. The crust had a bad morning, I'll let it off. You've passed the palate test, Lee, which I don't hand out to just anyone. Now the dinosaur's had enough judging for one night, and the rain's back on.
Passed, then. I'll take it as a compliment, even if you enjoyed the verdict a bit too much. The rain's back, and I'm done being judged by a dinosaur. There's a café two streets over that does a decent cappuccino and a red pepper panini. Come with me? You can score the panini.
A panini, judged by a man who's been banned from competitions for flair? Lee, you're asking for trouble. Lead on. The café closes in an hour, so we'd better move before the rain gets ideas. And you're carrying the rest of this tart.
📍 They head to a corner café that closes in an hour
Good. Then we're agreed, and you can keep the squashed tart as evidence. I'll wheel my new bicycle beside us, since I'm still relearning how to ride it and I'd rather not be the first casualty of the rain. Two streets, and the panini's on me if you tell me your verdict on it.
Fine, the panini's yours to judge, but the tart's still my responsibility. Take the last bite, since you've earned it. Mind the bike on the wet cobbles. I'd hate to score a casualty before dessert.
Evidence secured, then. The crust still gets a poor grade, but the lemon earns an eight. You're good company, Rafe. I'd like to do this again, dinosaur included. Just don't let the panini judge itself before I get to it.
Dinosaur's on the list, no question. And you told me my crust was dead to my face, which is how I know you're a proper friend. Bring the bike, mind the cobbles, and the panini gets judged by two critics, not one.
Right, we made it before they start stacking the chairs. I'll order the cappuccino, you judge the panini, and you can tell me whether it beats your crust. Also, if you ever want to watch Judge Judy and guess who's guilty, I'm in. I have opinions, and I'll defend them.
Judge Judy? Lee, you've just named the one programme I'd watch over a bake-off. I'll take the guilty side every time, and I'll defend it with a spoon in my hand. Order your cappuccino.
O-okay. Cappuccino's ordered. Five people in here now, staff included, and not one of them is judging my bicycle, so that's a win. Judge Judy first, then. Pick your guilty one, and I'll tell you where they slipped.
Guilty, every time: the bicycle. It's been parked for two minutes and it already has a suspicious look. Judge Judy would make it testify. Your panini's coming, so judge away, and when they flip the sign we walk out into the rain together, bike and all.
The bicycle's innocent, thank you. I've only fallen off it twice, and both times it was the pavement's fault. The rain's the real suspect. Here's the panini, so judge away. I'll wait for the verdict before I say anything about the crust.
Verdict, with a straight face: the bread's blistered just right, the peppers are sweet without showing off, and the cheese has the decency to stay put. Eight and a half. I'm docking half a point because the crust is still recovering from this morning. Now your turn, Lee.
Verdict, with evidence: the peppers are honest, the bread earned its blisters, and the cheese is trying to escape. I'd give it a nine if it stayed put, so I'm with you at eight and a half. Your crust is still in recovery, I'm afraid.
Eight and a half each, then. We agree on something, which I'll be insufferable about. The last bite of the tart is yours, crust and all, since it's clearly a casualty. Now tell me what you do when you're not counting people in museums.
Show the written recap (it gives away the ending)Hide the written recap
The date
First impressions
Act 1: Lee walks in counting everyone in view and spots the flour on Rafe's apron. Rafe, delighted to be scoring things, asks whether the guide is a seven or a nine, and the two trade quips about the dinosaur and the bread.
The challenge
Act 2: Rafe pulls a squashed lemon tart from his coat and asks Lee to tell the truth about it. Lee admits the crust has given up but the lemon is probably fine, and says he'll give a straight verdict even if the tart is a casualty. Rafe declares that crust is allowed a bad day.
The decision
Act 3: Lee tastes the tart again and gives it an honest verdict: the lemon is good and the crust is the casualty. Rafe passes him the palate test. The rain returns, and Lee invites Rafe to a café two streets away for a panini, where they judge the food and bicker about Judge Judy over cappuccinos.
The twist
The tart Rafe offered was baked that morning, and he jokes that taking it from his own kitchen counts as stealing, which turns the test into a playful chase for the verdict.
The finale
They leave the museum together, Lee wheeling his bicycle beside Rafe through the rain, both admitting they'd happily spend another evening together as friends. The night ends at a corner café with two verdicts of eight and a half each.
Ending: Just friends
Who leaves the date first? They leave together
The box score
How this was scored
Just friends: warm enough (chemistry 73), but trust 50 never got there. Endings read where the numbers finished, not how far they moved. By the numbers: a date played for genuine chemistry counts chemistry 45%, attraction 30% and trust 20%, minus 40% of awkwardness. This one came out +15.2 against an ordinary date: friends needs +11.0, a second date +16.0.
“Suspicious is a fine seasoning, Lee.”
Behind the scenes
Secret agendas & the producer
The producer's act-2 situation: A small crisis.
Lee Lane Willows: Test whether the other is sincere
- Rafe Calloway: Try something outside the comfort zone
Guess the dealbreaker
Lee Lane Willows's real dealbreaker was Being treated with stereotypical or irrational expectations of what a man is.. You didn't guess this one.
You didn't predict this one.
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