You and your giddy companions all link hands and begin prancing and skipping in circles around the WHAM cd, enjoying yourselves so much that you become completely oblivious to your surroundings. You don't hear the faint whistle, nor the following thud, nor even the accompanying splat over your painfully off-key rendition of the lyrical stylings of George Michaels.

You're still dancing to your heart's content when Counselor Dick Boddy comes running up to your joyous little circle. "You fools! What are you doing!?? Stop! STOP!" he calls out, running and waving his arms frantically. It takes several moments for Counselor Boddy to get your attention. As you look up at him you notice a blur of motion in the air behind him, followed by a loud thump and a spray of dirt and blood.

"Don't you see what's happening??" Counselor Boddy cries. "It's raining men!"

"But wait, I thought that was a Weather Girls song," you point out.

"It IS, but when you do a rain dance THIS gay, it can only invoke one result!"

You and your companions immediately let go of each others' hands, though Frank-Frank's sweaty, sticky digits cling for a few lingering seconds before peeling away. Unfortunately, your hopes of ending this madness by curtailing your song are for naught, as it's already too late, wave after wave of men splatting into the camp, completely crushing flat all in their path.

Your last thoughts as you look up to see a brightly colored man-shaped blur hurtling towards you are a silent nonsensical plea for him not to leave you hanging on like a yo-yo. Which he doesn't do, because you're pretty much dead after he lands on you.

WAKE ME UP BEFORE YOU GO-GO BACK TO THE BEGINNING, DUMBASS!