Jack pulls her back, dancing together again, he grabs her hips and feels his hands running over her toned stomach. She grabs his hand and leads him to the bar. They both breathe heavy; smiling, laughing. Jack puts his head down on the bar tired, he pauses to regain his energy.
“Waddya want?” The bartender shouts over the pounding beat.
“Two Petron shots.” The bartender pours two shots and slides them over. Jack slaps down a twenty dollar bill and takes the shot. He turns his back to the bartender and looks back over the crowd.
“Hey, check out that guy with the bracelets!” Jack says to the girl
“What does he think this is? Costume night?” She quib’s.
They both turn back to the bartender, get two more shots, and return to dance.

Two burly post-apocalyptic meat heads confront each other on the floor. They are in each others face, trying to prove superiority.

“Hey fuck you, she was dancing with me!”
“Get the fuck off bro, she’s not a piece of meat. But if she was, I’d be the one with the fork in her.”