An amateur observation:
As soon as improvisers use the word “like” in their expositions, I mentally check out.
I empathize with the behavior. I do it myself. We’re making stuff up on the spot, and we say “like” in normal offstage conversations, and it’s a perfectly reasonable word to use. But in improv, “like” is this big neon sign that screams “I need to pump more information into this scene,” “I can’t discover right now so I’m inventing,” “I need to use a filler word until my brain catches up to my mouth.”
It shocks me out of the scene. Suddenly the charming improv I was enjoying seems like overworked sketch, where the players are trying too hard to be clever.
It’s such a small thing. I’m weirded out that my reaction is this visceral. Fuckin’ like.
(Edit for specificity: “Like” can be effective when used sparingly, as a conscious character choice.)