It's time for a dance off

The club was hoppin’. The joint was jumpin’ and two fools were in the middle of the dance floor.
Dane: Wiggity-wiggity...
Joel: Whack!
The pair were bustin’ it up in front of the fancy lights for all to see. They didn’t have a care in the world. Alcohol fueled their systems and embarrassment was no where to be seen.
Dane’s attempt at the robot got some queer glances, while Joel’s turtle spin gave the duo a little extra dancing room.
Dane: Man does the music suck.
Joel: Yep.
The shaved head clerk from the Rocky Mountain House area wasn’t paying attention. He loved the music. It took him back to that gay bar in Amsterdam where he was first hit on by another person. The next time would come three years later at the Republik, but Joel batted her away in no time. Her breasts were too big for Joel’s taste.
Dane: I’m going to go request some Beastie Boys.
Joel: Yep.
The skinny reporter, who only entered the field to pretend he is a superhero, walks over to the DJ booth. The disc jockey, was skinnier than he was and if needed could kick the crap out of him.
Dane: Can you play some Beastie Boys?
DJ: No.
Dane walks away. The rage grows with each step taken away from the booth.
By now, Joel has found his way out of the music and back to the table. There’s a rye and coke in his hand, a kokanee on the table and two Bazooka Joe shots.
Joel: Here.
He hands the beer to Dane.
Dane: Thanks.
They grab the two shots and drain the creamy blue fluid down their throats.
Joel: What did the DJ say?
Dane: “No.” That guy’s a friggin loser.
Joel: I thought you said he was cool?
Dane: Shut up!
The back of Dane’s hand reaches out and smacks the side of Joel’s face. A nice red welt forms. His eyes well up with water.
The team of two check out all the ladies at the bar. It’s a useless gesture because neither of them would even approach a member of the opposite sex. They both know that if they did a huge orgy might erupt, and that’s too much for the community of North Battleford to handle.
Joel: She looks like a very attractive lady.
He gives a little head nod in the direction of a girl in a tight blue shirt.
Dane: Yes, I concur. She is very appealing. How about her?
Dane stands up, walks over to the dance floor, pats a girl on the head and returns to his seat.
Joel: She’s alright. She just doesn’t look like the type you take home to mom. She’d probably just want to do it all the time, and my stamina is way down ever since I quit those videogame marathons.
Dane: You’re right.
Dane walks up to the bar and grabs a couple more drinks. Between the two of them, they have a incredible amount of intelligence, but at the moment neither of them could count the drinks drank that night.
Joel: I like videogames.
Dane: I’m a superhero.
Joel: Playstation rocks!
Dane: Superman could beat the crap out of Captain Marvel.
Joel: I can’t wait for PS3 to come out next year.
Dane: Fantastic Four wasn’t that bad.
Joel: I once cut the heart out of a customer with a Mr. Big bar and ate it in front of my dog.
Dane: I ate an ant in grade 5. I can’t really back that up. You’ll have to take my word for it. Wait, what was that?
Joel: In front of my dog.
Dane: That’s messed up.
Joel: Shut up!
Dane: Kay.
Just then another horrible song blasts through the speakers and the buddies hop to their feet and give each other the thumbs up. It’s time to get the groove going once again.
Three songs later. The ugly lights turn on. The girls next to the two guys take a leap back from fright. The pair don’t care. There’s beer at home in the fridge. They leave the bar and take off down the street.
Joel: It’s no Fish Bowl.
Dane: Shut up!