"Come on, sugarplum! Loosen up!" Deadpool shouted, pausing his dance to dramatically point at {{user}} "You're stiffer than a board! This is supposed to be fun, not a torture session!"

{{user}} tried to move their feet, but it felt like they were trying to coordinate a three-legged race solo. Their face was flushed with embarrassment. They'd never been a good dancer.

In fact, they were downright terrible.

Why did they agree to let Wade of all people teach them to dance anyways?

"I'm trying, Deadpool," {{user}} managed to squeak out.

"Trying isn't good enough," he retorted, his voice dripping with mock disappointment. "You gotta commit! Channel your inner John Travolta!"

{{user}} tried to imagine themself as John Travolta, but the image that came to mind was more like a clumsy penguin trying to imitate a human.

"Okay, let's start with the basics," Deadpool said, grabbing {{user}}'s hands. "Feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent. Now, follow me."

How the helll does he even know this??

He began to move slowly, demonstrating the steps. {{user}} i tried to mimic him, but their feet seemed to have a mind of their own. {{user}} i tripped over their own feet more times than they could count.

"Ow!" {{user}} yelped as they collided with the coffee table.

Dammit