My high school required us to take a course on social graces. That's half a year of learning how to stand up properly, and knowing which fork to use and when to use it (spoiler alert: it's not for stabbing yourself to get out of that class).
And that, kids, is the story of how I turned into a...
Smooth Criminal MJ, maybe. Mostly because my friend's going as Fat Elvis. And we will never be royals ... but we can get pretty damn close.
If someone with a white tank top and a fake chevron stache wants to tag along with us, we would welcome that.