It's always cheezy.
  The box left on his front step said, "I'll only ask you to Morp when..."  Obviously he was expected to open it, and when he did, an army of pink drawn-on-pig-faced balloons floated away. A week later a jar of skittles was left on my doorstep, hundreds of candies that I had to sort through to find an answer.

  Blake and I have been in the same Sunday school class since we were probably seven.  As kids we were both so shy and silent that our moms joked that if we ever went on a date, it would a record for the world's quietest one.
 
  In the morning Chelsea took us to Golfland in her beloved big blue car.  What a party.  Although I cannot say I am the best at golf, or at laser-tag, or at  video games, it was really a blast.  Except Blake learned the hard way not to be standing in the way of McKay when he's bolting it 100 MPH during laser-tag... He got quite the swollen lip... And oh, Sam.  The next time we're trying to leave, don't feed $20 into the machine when you only want $1.  
At the actual dance, Hawk Hall was decked out with records tangling from the ceiling, dimmed lights, a checkered-tile diner-style snack station, etc... Music blasted, mostly thick-based modern but also, why not?  the occasional Elvis Presley and Etta James.  We pushed ourselves into the middle of the dance floor and danced hard.  Unfortunately Sam nicknamed it Grind Fest 2013, but oh well. It's high school.  At one point the entire crowd saw the clock tick a certain time and immediately dropped to the floor for no specific reason.   Then we started shouting the principle's name.
  We didn't get home till 12:30, and at that point I was so high off music and ice cream sundaes that I didn't even try to get to bed till 2.  Oh the life of a teen...