And we dance to the music and we dance!

'Twas Meg's birthday party. There was Dance Dance Revolution. I danced. And danced. And then revolted! The proletariate will fall, and be crushed under the heels of the working class, following the beat and those little arrow things. And cheery pop songs, of course, but that's to be expected in any good revolution. The Communist revolution, the Industrial revolution, the revolutionary new blade design of the Ronco Chopomatic-o-matic, everything. Oh, I did pretty well; got an A, a bunch of lesser grades and few failures. I was the best in the house, which is pretty good for a fat, uncoordinated geek. Although, to be fair, my competition weren't exactly experts. Well, one was, but I don't count her because she only played once. And did better than me, but whatever. Um, I can't type more, I'll explain tomorrow. Something worrisome has suddenly come up.