Danny exhaled an utter sigh of relief as he extruded his corporeal being from the miserable confines of Tucker's vile Chevy Impala.
"I'll see ya off, chummy ol' bud!" cooed Tucker softly. "Be careful around Jeanine, they call her 'Queen of the pants-stealers' I hear". Tuck winked knowledgably. Danny contemplated all the vile ways he could reprimand his friend for his sheer distilled unadulterated impotence.
He shoved open the shabby, grease-stained excuse for a door of the Amity park community center. He was immediately stricken with the blasphemous odor of hundreds of euphoric bodies gyrating in unison. Danny scoffed ironically and begrudgingly launched himself into the pit of human dismay with one goal in his hormone-addled mined: acquire Jeanine. He was locked and loaded; and so was she. Their eyes lit up with enough coal to melt even the most voluminous glaciers of hope.
"Hey", she breathed, abashed. Danny shrugs, playing hard to get. "Pretty… smelly dress you got there" he mocked erogenously, knowing the well-traversed pathway to the fleshy innards of a red-blooded maiden.
"Hoo hoo", Jeanine bumbled humbly, taken aback by the erotic charms of her mannish suitor. Carving into this distilled moment of teenage bliss, Danny felt his nape tickled by the elongated phalanges that he knew could belong to only one man: Greg. "There's a bit of a SPECTRAL SITUATION" Greg ejaculated urgently, full of spirit.
Danny glanced at Jeanine, the longing in her vivacious eyes, resplendent with the repugnant ire of 10,000 suns, implored him stay rooted and planted in the sickly mire of hallucinogenic adolescent glee.
Danny resisted the cosmically attractive magnetar and the gravitational pull of her celestial allure.
But he knew what he had to do, deep in the dank, grotto-like annals of his innermost grotesque being.
It was time to go ghost.