Dance
Marshall could hear faint music throughout the two hour meeting - a radio tuned to a classical station? The sugar-plum fairy, er, dance thing? By the time they got out, he was desperate for some alone-time.
He'd just got into his office and started to throw some serious shapes when he realised he'd been had. The door opened a crack, just enough for someone to push through an iphone, one that was probably videoing his every more.
With a roar, Marshall lunged for the door, too late. It slammed shut just after he heard the unmistakable sound of giggling.
"BARNEY!!"