(Author's Note: Sorry this took a while, I went on a mission trip and gave food to hobos. Thank you so much for all of the lovely reviews! I appreciate them! Keep reviewing!

I still don't own anything.)



"I already choreographed it, and we've been practicing all day. We can't change it now."

"Mike, I have my limits. Apparently one of them is tap dancing."

"But it'll be so cool. And Puttin' on the Ritz? It's meant for tap."

"But I can't do it."

"You'll get the hang of it."

"Not by tomorrow, I won't."

"Yes you will! You just need to get a little bit more precise with your steps."

"I'm not Fred Astaire."

"You will be after I'm through with you."


"No complaining, you're the one who wanted to do this in the first place."

"But Mike-"


"Well then, show me what you're doing again. I think I'll be able to stop ramming into you if I know where exactly you're going."

"I actually don't mind you running into me."

"Usually I'd respond with a smooth pick-up line and we'd be on the floor by now, but right now I'm too nervous about the dance."

"Just keep calm. Your nerves are your problem. Relax."

"How can I relax when we're getting up in front of the class to do a number tomorrow and I have no idea how the dance goes?"

"Think about something else while you're dancing. You're thinking too much. Let your muscle memory do the moving and let your mind think about something else. Something that makes you calm."


"I think about that day when we got locked in the bathroom after school."

"And that relaxes you? The janitor almost killed us!"

"Yeah! It was one of the best days ever! And the best toilet paper statue of Mrs. Sylvester that has ever been made, I believe."

"We spent the night in a men's bathroom, and you consider it one of your best days ever."

"Yes. I do."

"Ok, I think I have something."

"Good. Then try the steps while thinking about it."

"Tap is easier than I thought."

"I told you, Matt. My advice may have been weird, but it worked. What were you thinking about?"

"That one time a few days after the night in the bathroom."

"What time?"

"Well, I can show you better than I can tell you."

"I remember that night now."

"I told you I could show you."

"And you did. Now, where's my shirt?"

(Author's Note: Well, that got dirtier than I thought it would end up. Anyhow, review! I live on reviews. If I don't get them I die.

^That last statement was an exaggeration. But I do love reviews, so do it!)