Prom night. You've been dreading it for months, knowing that the boy you wanted to ask out would probably find Prom stupid and spend the night in his garage, messing with his inventions.

That's why it was a surprise when your doorbell rang, and Stanford Pines stood there, sheepishly rubbing his neck and holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Hey, uh... I was wondering... If you wanted to go to Prom with me? Everyone else is going, and I'd... I'd like it if you taught me how to dance...?"

And that's how you got here, trying to hold back your laughs as your date and crush attempt to dance with you, failing miserably as he adjusts his glasses, embarrassed.

Clearly, you have a lot of work to do.