The park house was quiet, not a sound to be heard as most of the park staff were all out at the moment, enjoying wings at Wing Kingdom. All but Rigby, who had chosen to stay home and enjoy an evening just to himself. He smiled to himself as he bobbed his head to the beat thumping through him from his headphones. He stood up and walked into the kitchen, glancing over the filthy silverware and muddled floors, frowning in distaste. He nodded once and walked, shaking his tail as he moved throughout the house. He walked into his room and frowned at the messy bedsheets and scattered dishes. He trudged back down to the living room and smiled with confidence as he continued bobbing his head until the song hit a particularly enjoyable part.
And suddenly, he found himself dancing! He spared no expense for style as he shook his tail in time to the bass. The instruments worked him into a tangent as he shuffled through the house, feet only leaving the tiled floor for the next dance move he would perfect. Finally, he found his sunglasses and put them on as he continued his strut. His arms and legs moved in sync as the next song came on. He switched styles accordingly and started brake dancing. As he got into the groove, sweat began to build when he dropped down and hopped up, twirling as he did so. He gleefully moonwalked across the kitchen floor and spun, throwing up a leg and brought it back down, then thrust with his hand against his crotch in a mock imitation of Micheal Jackson. Rigby continued imitating more famous dancers for awhile until heading upstairs where he bound into Benson's office. He began strutting across his table and front flipped off once he was done. Afterwards, he skated across the floor, into his bedroom. He waltzed back and forth and continued busting a move with a smile. It wasn't long before he had danced in everyone's rooms and was finally back in the living room.
As the first song he had been listening to had come back on and was finishing it's last notes, he allowed himself to pose infront of the television as it ended. His eyes darted over to the cleaned dishes and smooth, freshly scented floor. They soon moved to the countertops and tables which had been dusted completely. He thought of his handiwork upstairs and snickered at his particular style of cleaning. Just as he sat on the couch, exhausted, the door went flying open. The gang had just returned and Benson was looking around the house with raised brows. The house was spotless? Impossible. He was planning to interrogate the raccoon to find out what he had been doing, but stopped in his tracks when he saw the poor thing sleeping with a smile on his face, the music barely audible to him from this distance.
Kudos to Avicii's Wake Me Up and Levels; Arianna Grande's Bang Bang; and Good Feelings for the inspiration to this fic. They were the songs I was listening to during the making.
