The party was starting to drag. The problem, quite simply, was that none of the boys could dance. The girls all could, sure, but that's always the case, and the girls who never could looked good faking it. Party hosts Bill and Lil danced obligatorily - but it was the female of the two who had taught the left-footed oaf all he knew. Sally, Malli, Molly and Dolly, lovely and single, wheeled the beats with each other, moving in dazzles of rhythmic rotation, pausing for occasional deep kisses that caught the boys' attention as they sat like flesh-eating wallflowers, backs hugging the wall, feet planted in a stew of yearnful frustration.

This described the general scene at Lil's and Bill's parties, but tonight would be different. At midnight Lil brought out her surprise, a secret weapon she had trained intensively in numerous nighttime sessions while Bill worked late at the office. Her secret appeared at the door, looking quite germane and urbane in the hand-tailored, long-sleeved apparel she'd knitted, and as all eyes perceived, it was a real, live octopus twirling it's way into the room. He danced with Sally, Malli, Molly and Dolly, all four at once. Afterwards, when the lights turned low, he disappeared with his partners, silently, discreetly, but one at a time. Everyone was happy - except the boys, whose arms hung limp and motionless by their sides.

Story #393