This Story is Going Nowhere Fast

You begin dancing like it's 1984 again, you spin as you reach corners, every time a girl walks past that catches your eye, your arms are raised and you point at them funkily, winking your eye, some of them pay no notice, however, apparent to your well-built physique and charming looks, many look your way smiling smiles that are looks of attraction. You suddenly get this urge to do the moonwalk, without a care in the world, you moonwalk until your leather soles catch fire. It seems you were conveniently walking in a heap of petroleum jelly at the time. The street catches fire, and so do your brand new expensive-limited-edition-quality-exquisite-polished-leather soled shoes.


You whole body catches fire, you run around hoarse, terrified anguish of extreme pain....


Your urn is placed in the Museum of Terpsichorean Legends.


The sign next to your Urn reads, "The Petroleum Moonwalker."

Good day to you