Tedious Spandex House Party Crashed by Unidentified Dance Machines

A small, delightfully boring gathering of twenty-something white people in northeast Minneapolis received a jump start late Friday evening, when a band of equally caucasian but decidedly less boring dance enthuisiasts appeared at the door. The dancers were polite if empty-handed, humorous if homo erotic, and they made apologies for neither demeanor nor body odor as they commenced with the guzzling of innumerable bottles of lukewarm Huber Bock beer. Soon after, the enigmatic troupe, along with some committed party guests, began a 7 person dance circle and performed an inspired interpretation of Shut Up by the Blackeyed Peas. As the dancing intensified, the door to the dance room was barricaded by the performers. The walls shook with the reverberations of their vigorous and beautiful movements, and it wasn't long before an angry lesbian broke through the barricade, demanding that the dancers decrease the volume and fervor of their performance. The dancers smiled politely back at the creature, but continued to dance with undiminished vitality and verve. The girl retreated back behind the futon barricade and out the living room door. The dancers turned up the music. This might well be considered the climax of the evening. It was, after all, 5am, and the dancers had alienated all of the borish white people save a single long john-clad follower who had continued romping with the professionals, approaching if not matching the dancers' energy to a surprising degree. It may however have been just the beginning. We will never know, because the next person to breach the furniture blockade was the angriest white man any of the dancers had ever seen. His fury was matched only by his idiocy, and the exchange that ensued will not be reproduced here to protect the dear readers from becoming dumber just for having read of this man's words. Suffice it to say that the night ended in near-violence, but both the dancers and the troglodyte escaped unscathed. Within mere moments of the scuffle, the dancers were gone-vanishing into the night as mysteriously as they had arrived, leaving the cutest girl who ever went to Central High School standing alone in the doorway, waving a teal spandex kerchief and brushing a single tear from her eye.

Sphere: Related Content