Image source: https://www.theunconventionalroute.com/oura-ring-r...
I’ve been crushing on one of my coworkers for years but kept my mouth shut because, y’know, professionalism.
He just discovered that he has cancer and will be undergoing major surgery for it ASAP.
What’s the best way to confess my feelings, to avoid causing him any additional stress in this deeply personal, challenging time?
***No OOC please. I’m not going to say anything. Just looking for a laugh because I’m sad/worried for him.
Propose to him. In style. Embed within your beloved's tumour an engagement ring, either by itself or inside one of those black-velvet presentation boxes, accompanied by a few dozen party poppers designed to go bang in the surgeons' faces as they remove it. You know. Something tasteful. A bit of pizazz. There's nothing that aids delicate scalpel-work and steady hands quite like hilarious surprise explosions. They'll adore it, and you. You'll be ever so popular.
So how, you ask, might you smuggle your party package within your beau's tumour? Easy. Good thing you came to me, honestly. You wouldn't believe how unimaginative most folk are re cancer-stealthing engagement rings. God, the stories I could tell you ...
But anyhoo. The idea is to find some way of burying both ring and party poppers inside the tumour without your beloved's knowledge, and the surgeons' knowledge too, so that when they unshroud your explodey treasures it's a glorious surprise all round. Maybe some kind of Cancer Ring supplement? Found one of those wankster hipster biohacker companies promising those ridiculous health supplements that return the gloss to your cheeks and spring in your step and blood to your gonads. But the capsules in actuality contain some kind of disassembled or tightly coiled/compactified engagement ring that when swallowed, the target's stomach acids remove the outer capsule coating, as per usual, but then ... I dunno, then, let's say the coiled metal ring is structured in such a way that its metal reverts to a ring-shape.
The remainder of the capsule's internal volume could comprise of some kind of cancer-cell Starter Kit. Problem solved. Swallowing an entire months-long course of additional "supplements" takes care of the party poppers. The ring, poppers, and embryo-cancer then get lodged in your beloved's intestines. They grow until detected and surgically removed, and only then do the surgeons discover the actual ring. Embedded in the tumour.
Be sure to add the following engraved message carved around its circumference like Sauron's One Ring: "Oh god oh god I have always loved you marry me marry me PS as you can see, I am quite obviously a sorceress of dreadful powers, so should you DISPLEASE me you'll surely regret it, now marry me pretty please mwah mwah mwah." Easy peasy. What bloke wouldn't go all aswoon at that?