"Knock me over? What're ya trying to say, eh?" He put on his best scowling god mask which wasn't so easy because he was on the brink of bursting into laughter and falling off his chair. He could see the light twitch of a muscle at the corner of Iris' mouth - something which not everybody would have picked up, but Phobos had years of practice under his belt.
Draining his glass, he got up - still with the rubber knees - and took Iris' hand to pull her up. "We'll show them kids who's boss. We'll be the last ones standing, I'm telling ya. They're three thousand years too early to be a match for us."
And so they headed for the dance floor in a slightly curvy but no less determined... beeline. Bump and grind, surrounded by swaying, dancing bodies, it would be a miracle if anyone fell over. Phobos liked it, the wide grin on his face more than proof enough.