"Hey now," John furrowed his brow and then quirked the right side, "Surprised?" He didn't look like such a slob all the time, did he? Maybe a little. But he wanted to make an impression, and apparently he had. Hell yeah.
Everyone was already getting funky by the time Kitty grabbed him and beamed up at him with enthusiastic, sparkly brown eyes. "You couldn't stop me," he told her and moved forward so it didn't look as much like she was dragging him. He didn't do so bad when it came to dancing - at least in his opinion. Here and there, he'd picked up a few things and he knew he'd have to pull out all the tricks in his bag before the night was over. Either that, or fake an ankle sprain. And there were too many doctors around for that crap.
"Do you know the lawnmower?" he asked, setting his feet to move to the rhythm while his arms set to work on the invisible piece of lawn equipment. His left hand grasped the 'handle' while his right hand repeatedly pulled back on the starter - to the beat. He grinned widely across at Kitty then, "I guess a riding lawnmower wouldn't make as good of a dance?"