r/WritingPrompts • u/katpoker666 Moderator • Jan 09 '26
Off Topic [OT] Fun Trope Friday: Snow Means Love & Musical!
Welcome to Fun Trope Friday, our feature that mashes up tropes and genres!
How’s it work? Glad you asked. :)
Every week we will have a new spotlight trope.
Each week, there will be a new genre assigned to write a story about the trope.
You can then either use or subvert the trope in a 750-word max story or poem (unless otherwise specified).
To qualify for ranking, you will need to provide ONE actionable feedback. More are welcome of course!
Three winners will be selected each week based on votes, so remember to read your fellow authors’ works and DM me your votes for the top three.
Next up… IP
PLEASE NOTE: We’re back to 750 words
Alright, so you’re done with the holidays. Now what? In the Northern Hemisphere it’s cold and icy. So let’s explore some wintry conditions focusing on snow. Please note this theme is only loosely applied.
“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness?” ― John Steinbeck
Trope: Snow Means Love — Maybe I’ve watched one too many holiday romcoms, but this one feels right somehow. A classic romantic setting is two lovers alone in a gentle snowfall. Bonus points if the first snowflake falls immediately after they get together. Almost mandatory in a Christmas Episode, or if lucky, a Valentine's Day Episode. A person alone is cause for sympathy and especially one that's Prone to Tears.
Genre: Musical — Musical theater is a form of theatrical performance that combines songs, spoken dialogue, acting and dance. The story and emotional content of a musical – humor, pathos, love, anger – are communicated through words, music, movement and technical aspects of the entertainment as an integrated whole. For our purposes, let’s treat the word ‘musical’ broadly. You may want to explore music through a poem set to music or song . You may want to structure your whole piece as an example of musical theater. Or you may be a bit tone deaf or even have musical anhedonia and simply want to include lyrical quotes from five different songs in your piece. If you choose the last option, please cite the songs you reference at the end. And for folks who have actual musical chops, please feel free to sing or include a link to a background tune or whatnot. The point is to include obvious musical elements and have as much fun with this as possible. Use your imagination!
Skill / Constraint - optional: Someone has an achy, breaky heart
So, have at it. Lean into the trope heavily or spin it on its head. The choice is yours!
Have a great idea for a future topic to discuss or just want to give feedback? FTF is a fun feature, so it’s all about what you want—so please let me know! Please share in the comments or DM me on Discord or Reddit!
Last Week’s Winners
PLEASE remember to give feedback—this affects your ranking. PLEASE also remember to DM me your votes for the top five stories via Discord or Reddit—both katpoker666. This is a change from the top three of the past. In weeks where we get over 15 stories, we will do a top five ranking. Weeks with less than 15 stories will show only our top three winners. If you have any questions, please DM me as well.
Some fabulous stories this week and great crit at campfire and on the post! We had 10 stories, so we’re back to three winners. Congrats to:
Want to read your words aloud? Join the upcoming FTF Campfire
The next FTF campfire will be Thursday, January 15th from 6-8pm ET. It will be in the Discord Main Voice Lounge. Click on the events tab and mark ‘Interested’ to be kept up to date. No signup or prep needed and you don’t have to have written anything! So join in the fun—and shenanigans! 😊
Ground rules:
- Stories must incorporate both the trope and the genre
- Leave one story or poem between 100 and 750 words as a top-level comment unless otherwise specified. Use wordcounter.net to check your word count.
- Deadline: 11:59 PM EDT next Thursday. Please note stories submitted after the 6:00 PM EST campfire start may not be critted.
- No stories that have been written for another prompt or feature here on WP—please note after consultation with some of our delightful writers, new serials are now welcomed here
- No previously written content
- Any stories not meeting these rules will be disqualified from rankings
- Does your story not fit the Fun Trope Friday rules? You can post your story as a [PI] with your work when the FTF post is 3 days old!
- Please keep crit about the stories. Any crit deemed too distracting may be deleted. This is a time to focus on our wonderful authors.
- Vote to help your favorites rise to the top of the ranks (DM me at katpoker666 on Discord or Reddit)!
Thanks for joining in the fun!
5
u/Divayth--Fyr Jan 15 '26 edited Jan 15 '26
Drifting Down
.
Jobrin didn’t mind cold. He was born to cold, far deeper and crueler than anything you got here in the Hevelaran kingdoms. He didn’t mind snow, either, or not usually. It was this snow, this kind of snow, that darkened his soul. The big feathery flakes, fluffy and light, drifting down in a light breeze. That kind.
People on the street moved aside as he walked along. They always did. He was Jobrin the Mighty of Rovar, after all, menacing at the best of times, rumored to be a quarter orc on his mother’s side. He was just a man, really, but the rumors suited him. Now, though, rage sufficed to clear his way as he sought his inn, his drink, and his solitude.
The bright flakes danced their way down and down in the evening chill, sparkling and twisting in a gentle whirl. Bur-Ghazhka, God of Vengeance, let one of these fools bump into me. Let one of them open their fucking mouth, with their mushy Hevelarii tones.
None did.
He threw open the door to the inn, spilling noise and light into the street, blowing cold into the tavern. A chorus of complaints started and stopped in a heartbeat, lute and fife trailed off, and silence reigned.
Peasants. Monks. Soldiers. He surveyed the room, hungry to find a hint of defiance. Scowling, he stomped over and, with terrifying ease, hefted a great barrel of ale. The stairs complained as he carried it up, but no one else did.
He reached his room, set down the barrel with a resounding thud, and sat on the heavy chair. Tearing the head off the barrel, he dunked his great flagon into the dark fragrant brew and started his great battle, to defeat mind and memory.
He would never know. There had been too many. Dozens. But all the same, he knew. Too late, he had come. Too late for Miratil, too late for any of them. Girded and ready, his company had stormed the gates of the Alliance of Flame. The mad wizard, the fire demons, the three dragons: all had been defeated, but too late.
Chatter and music started again below. Jobrin downed his ale and dipped more. He hadn’t wanted to come back here. His King had ordered it, saying there would be a memorial, a ceremony. Not singing and dancing. Another flagon emptied, and another.
Held hostage, his tribemates and dozens of others had been burned atop the Crimson Peak. There was no way to know, but he knew it all the same—some of the ashes that had found him had been hers. Miratil, his love, his intended. Great soft flakes of ash had floated down, dancing in the breeze, and touched his face.
All because of these mewling Hevelaran fools, who had appeased the mad wizard and sought to join the Alliance, calling it wise, calling the faithful fools, until they were betrayed and sent for help.
Stupid noise. Reedy piping and warbling nonsense from downstairs. Were they dancing down there? On the Day of Ashes, did they dance and celebrate the victory, near thirty years later?
His huge hands clenched and trembled. Grateful, oh so grateful the untouched rulers of Hevelar had been, with their soft hands making a weak show of applauding. Festooned with medals and ribbons, Jobrin had sat at the feast of victory and never ate a morsel.
“There in the fire-lit mountain range,
facing the gates of steel,
Strode the Blue Company proud and strange,
with power, might, and zeal,
Sworn to the service of Helvar kings,
warded from demon’s ire,
Hunting the dragons to clip their wings,
the Company braved the fire,”
What in the nine caves of Ingrodor was this shit? Were they singing The Blue Company? Tonight? And they changed the words.
“Loyal and true the Rovarii men,
answering royal call,
Onward and into the dragons’ den,
the Company faced them all,
Noble of soul and beyond com … pare …”
The song came to a ragged end as Jobrin lurched from the shadows.
Hefting his immense hammer, he struck. The singer’s head exploded in gruesome ruin, spattering everywhere. There were screams, people scrambling away.
“Shut up.”
Jobrin wandered unsteadily into the street. Guards would come. Nothing to do about that. Might as well get on with things.
He turned and staggered up the hill, toward the castle, wondering if any of those old kings were still alive. Soft flakes fell, touching his grim, snarling face.
742 words. Snow meant hate? Music appeared, if briefly, no achy and/or breaky.
Feedback welcome.
6
u/wileycourage Jan 15 '26 edited Jan 15 '26
(Body Horror Warning!)
Obsession
“I wanna be your slave, I wanna be your master, I wanna make your heartbeat run like rollercoasters.” Van purred softly, his hand stroking the bare small of Miranda’s back. She wasn’t conscious and that’s how he preferred it when he was working. He hadn’t come all the way out to his cabin in the woods if he wanted any interruption, even from her. That snow fell was mere happenstance, a happy accident if you will. She was his; he hers. Neither could escape.
He laid fully clothed next to her in her bed, smiling at the results of his conquest. Confident in the depth of Miranda’s slumber, her male companion spoke louder yet.
“Oh can’t you see? You belong to me. How my poor heart aches with every step you take.” There seemed to Van an electric spark, a recognition between his fingertip and the peach fuzz on her skin as he traced his esoteric patterns.
Van allowed himself to slip into the liminal space between awareness and sleep. There he transformed into a horned demon, his skin dyed dark red. A pentagram seared itself onto Miranda’s back, but still she did not stir.
Van flayed her with his newly pointed fingernails from the nape of her neck to her butt, skin and muscle splitting wide open without a drop of blood. Miranda’s ribs cracked and broke on their own accord, revealing her poisoned lungs. Hundreds of tumors from the size of grains of rice to peas to meatballs pulsed red violently, highlighting them in particular among the pallid pink mass of flesh.
His voice bellowed out now. “She eyes me like a Pisces when I am weak. I’ve been locked inside your heart-shaped box for weeks; been drawn into your magnet tar pit trap. I wish I could eat your cancer when you turn black!”
The incantation performed, the tumors popped out like pus from zits from within the organ they befouled. Unceremoniously, the Van-beast greedily crushed the round, raw, and chewy offal meat between his molars, swallowing them all with glee. Spit mixed with her blood dribbled down his beard.
Miranda’s wound closed as quickly as it opened, and she turned to her partner, still asleep but speaking. “Do you believe in life after love?” she asked. “I can feel something inside me say, ‘I really don’t think you’re strong enough, no.’”
“Love of mine,” he responded, “someday you will die, but I’ll be close behind. I’ll follow you into the dark. No blinding light, or tunnels to gates of white just our hands clasped so tight, waiting for the hint of a spark. If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks, then I'll follow you into the dark.”
Van gently pulled her face up to his and kissed her with his now deep purple lips, but Miranda recoiled violently upon their touching. "I thought that I heard you laughing. I thought that I heard you sing. I think I thought I saw you try. But that was just a dream. That was just a dream."
“How did it end up like this?,” Van asked, “It was only a kiss. It was only a kiss.” She did not answer, remaining asleep.
“My girl, my girl, where will you go? I’m going where the cold wind blows. In the pines, in the pines where the sun don’t ever shine. I’d shiver the whole night through.”
Her mouth bent into a gentle smile. He took this as nothing less than an unimpeachable command and burst out of the cabin into the snow on cloven feet, the rush of cold air stinging his cheeks as he ran.
“Wake me up inside,” he cried out, “Call my name and save me from the dark!”
“Van!”
“Van!” Miranda shook the sleeping man who stirred. “Having one of your nightmares again?”
He looked at her face, still weak and drained of the life it once had.
“Yes and no.”
---
WC: 658. Songs in order: Måneskin - I Wanna Be Your Slave; The Police - Every Breath You Take; Nirvana - Heart Shaped Box; Cher - Believe; Death Cab for Cutie - I Will Follow You Into the Dark; R.E.M. - Losing My Religion; The Killers - Mr. Brightside; Nirvana - Where Did You Sleep Last Night?; Evanescence - Bring Me to Life.
5
u/Ok-Speed-2799 Jan 15 '26
Welp, you had me at least three times there, wileycourage, and left me aching and a bit nauseous. Well done!
4
u/katpoker666 Jan 15 '26 edited Jan 15 '26
[ineligible for voting]
Harriet stared out the window as snowflakes fell like dying swans made of toilet paper, gnawing on the end of her favorite green pen.
A snow day, why did it have to be a snow day? Any other Tuesday and she’d have been all in. But today was Valentine’s Day and she’d written the perfect poem for her musical-loving amor, Elsa! Well, ‘written’ was a bit generous perhaps… Harriet had pieced together a bunch of lyrical samples from various musicals that sort of loooooked like a poem, if you squinted. They all sounded the same anyway. Maybe Elsa would like it and finalllly make their relationship public? Or maybe Harriet should just ‘Let it go?’
She bit her lip and then started to read aloud.
“I’m past patiently waitin’. I’m passionately smashin’ every expectation.”
“Now is the time to seize the day, stare down the odds and seize the day.”
“To be willing to march into Hell for that heavenly cause.”
“I won’t stay hidden anymore: I’m who I am and I think that’s worth fighting for.”
“Just be who you wanna be: never let ’em tell you who you ought to be.”
“Above all else in whatever you do, to thine own self be true.”
“Follow every rainbow till you find your dream.”
“If you believe within your heart, you’ll know that no one can change the path that you must go.”
“Things will come out right now: we can make it so.”
“Though your dreams be tossed and blown, walk on.”
“There is a flame that never dies. Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.”
“Even when the dark comes crashing through. When you need a friend to carry you.”
Harriet sighed as she crumpled the poem she’d written in her best cursive into a ball.
Some things should never be attempted. At least the snow meant she’d have more time to write something decent.
-
“Let It Go” from “Frozen” just prior to the poem
-
“Unruly Heart” from “The Prom” (2016; lyrics by Chad Beguelin)
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“My Shot” from “Hamilton” (2015; lyrics by Lin-Manuel Miranda)
-
“The Impossible Dream” from “Man of La Mancha” (1965; lyrics by Joe Darion)
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“Seize the Day” from “Newsies” (2011; lyrics by Jack Feldman)
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“Raise You Up/Just Be” from “Kinky Boots” (2012; lyrics by Cyndi Lauper)
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“To Thine Own Self” from “Something Rotten!” (2015; lyrics by Karey and Wayne Kirkpatrick)
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“Climb Ev’ry Mountain” from “The Sound of Music” (1959; lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II)
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“Believe in Yourself” from “The Wiz” (1974; lyrics by Charlie Smalls, Zachary Walzer, and Luther Vandross)
-
“No One Is Alone” from “Into the Woods” (1987; lyrics by Stephen Sondheim)
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“You’ll Never Walk Alone” from “Carousel” (1945; lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II)
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“Finale—Do You Hear The People Sing? (Reprise)” from “Les Misérables” (1980; lyrics by Herbert Kretzmer)
-
“You Will Be Found” from “Dear Evan Hansen” (2015; lyrics by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul)
WC: 323, excluding song footnotes
Thanks for reading this little experiment! Feedback is always appreciated
6
u/wordsonthewind Jan 14 '26 edited Jan 20 '26
Yoshiko hadn't expected to fall in love today.
Her uncle had sent her out again as a wandering extension of his tobacco shop. Her case was almost empty: winter was perfect weather for cigarettes. Even if they didn't smoke, matches were always useful. She still had one or two boxes left; once she'd sold those she would go back. Her uncle would be happy with her even if he wouldn't praise her. He was just that kind of person.
The guy had been curled up on the ground. A boy, really: he didn't look much older than her. Snowflakes fell in his hair and melted on his skin. Her uncle always ignored vagrants: they were good for nothing except being roadblocks for upstanding folk, he said. But Yoshiko couldn't do that. So many of them froze to death in winter and were disposed of like litter. It felt wrong. Maybe they'd lived in the countryside once with a family who'd loved them, just like her.
But he didn't want charity. He didn't want to come in from the cold. He just wanted some matches to burn the paintings he had with him. So he was an artist!
He was really good, Yoshiko thought as she looked through them. Even if he used a lot of black paint, there were still patches of light and color. The darkest ones seemed to cry out with a strange helpless longing.
"What happened to you?" she asked. "You can tell me about it if you like."
"My life is just like these paintings," he mumbled. "There's no light. It's all swallowed by the dark."
"That's not true."
Yoshiko made her decision then and there. She'd show him all the light and hope he'd painted but couldn't see.
"Every night when it gets colder I look up at the sky
Don't be shy, it's a marvelous sight
In the darkness you can see all the little shining stars that the daytime hides
When the sun sets and they come out to brighten up the sky
I feel like I have a fresh start
And with the moon shining down on me
I know there's nothing scary about the dark..."
Yoshiko's mother had sung her a song back when she'd been a little girl afraid of shadows on the walls. Maybe it would help him too.
"Nighttime has its own light
It's a playground for the stars and fireflies
Trailing sparks behind them
as they laugh and dance
Darkness has its own joys
It's a happiness that takes you by surprise
If you give it a chance—"
"It never lasts..."
Her uncle would have said that with sneering contempt. This boy just sounded sad. He flipped through his paintings as he responded:
"Every night a cold and bitter wind chills me to the bone
The stars never show up for me
Sure, they sound lovely but they're always covered up by clouds and fog too thick for me to see
All I feel is fear and loneliness
My heart has turned to stone—"
"Who hurt you? What makes you so sad?"
He shrugged. "If you ask me everything good in this life is crushed and overshadowed by the bad.
The happiness you speak of
is nothing but a false and empty dream."
"The happiness I speak of," Yoshiko answered, "is closer than it seems..."
Nighttime has its own light
Let its warmth soothe away your pain
The fireflies will guide you
To hope again!
He'd joined in with her. Even if he didn't quite believe it, he wanted to. Yoshiko could see it in his eyes. He just didn't dare.
Luckily, she knew just the thing to help him along. She'd always loved snowball fights with her cousins.
"Come on!" Yoshiko laughed. This snow was too powdery for snowballs, but Yoshiko scooped up some anyway and tossed it at him.
He laughed, almost despite himself. And now he was on his feet and throwing "snowballs" too. Her cousins had been right after all. Everyone loved a snowball fight.
Nighttime has its own light
It's the cradle for a million shooting stars
Spreading wishes with them
both near and far
Darkness has its own joys
It holds the dreams that daylight sweeps away
They're waiting for you, hidden
but never gone
He gazed into her eyes. He felt the same as her, Yoshiko could tell. This was the start of something wonderful.
With you I can see the dawn...
[EU] of the No Longer Human musical. No achy breaky heart for Yozo, unless his angsting counts.
The original song can be found here. The translation in this piece is my own. Someone else did another translation which focuses more on preserving the original's meaning.
Feedback always welcome!
2
u/Divayth--Fyr Jan 15 '26
Globbledysnork!
That is such a good opening line. Just perfect.
I have never seen No Longer Human, but the songs were delightful.
This could have been excessively cute and too easy, but you wrote it well and made the interaction feel authentic. Not an instant transformation to happiness, but a bright moment in the dark.
and even if they didn't smoke matches were always useful.
A comma after 'smoke' would be good, as I wondered for a moment who smokes matches.
He was just the kind of person.
'that kind of person' I think
I didn't click links at first, so I made up my own music in my head and it worked pretty well. A lovely chilly story and very good words!
→ More replies (1)
6
u/Carrieka23 Jan 14 '26
Burry Snow
Scene: A wife staring at the snow, as she realizes that her husband has been cheating on her for years now with a random girl.
—-------------------------------------------
I remember the first night we met,
Under the mistoletree, we held hands,
We touch our lips. And I thought you were mine.
When my friend saw you, she reached me under the room,
She said, “Be careful with that one love, he’ll do what it takes to survive.”
But you and your eyes flooded my senses.
You left me feeling defendless.
You built me affection ontop of affection, under the burry snow.
But now here I am, standing here.
I’m looking and scanning for answers,
Wondering why? Why you do this? What went wrong?
Under this burry snowwww.
Snowwww.
I saw how you looked at my friend,
The day she walk by with that beautftil dress,
Those gorgeous eyes,
Those moments you were her.
And did you know what she said,
When she saw your face. She said,
“Break up with him, now, he doesn’t love you anymore.”
You and your obsession with women!
You manage to get them with your charm.
As I standing here under the cold, burry snowwwww
You, you, you.
I’m melting away from you.
Let future people wonder how I reacted, when you broke my heart!
You ruined our future!
So rot under the,
Burrrrrrrry snow!
Under the,
Burrrrrrrrrrry snow!
You no longer have the place in my heart!
You no longer have the room in my soul!
I won;t let you affect me no more.
I shall melt away!
I shall leave you!
And let you rot in hell.
You forbid the rights to a nice snow!
You will handle nothing but a blizzard!
You’ll sleep in the damn cold!
With only the memories of when you could be mineeeeeeee!
Under the burry,
Snow.
----------------
WPC: 307
→ More replies (1)1
u/m00nlighter_ Jan 16 '26
Heya Haruuuu-ga!
Gah! The friend trying to tell the MC that he's no good for her, and the parallel of the snow and the MC's emotions are very powerful in this song/poem. I'm not sure what a "burry" is, if it's a flurry sort of thing, or her being buried beneath the snow, but it feels very mythical here (which is a complement XD)she reached me under the room
This read a little strange, "through the room" or "under the noise in the room" or something could clarify this sentence.
I’m melting away from you.
and
You’ll sleep in the damn cold!
Looove this with the burry of the snow.
I would greedily have liked some idea of what the MC may be doing while singing this song. If she is watching these memories in a snowglobe, or is dancing through the snow defiantly, etc. This piece doesn't need that, I just enjoyed it and would've enjoyed being immersed deeper in that way.
So so happy to see you at FTF! I hope your travels go well this week! Good words!
6
u/m00nlighter_ Jan 15 '26 edited Jan 15 '26
Iced Out
Outside, stars sparkled in competition with holiday lights strung over the connected brownstones of Darling Street. Snow rested undisturbed and the footprints of partygoers had been filled and smoothed hours ago by the biting winter breeze. A snowman built by the hostess’s siblings was the only figure lingering along the cold avenue.
Its twig arms reached toward the window, waiting for a hug that’s unlikely to come. Its marble eyeballs flickered in its snowy skull as if they were full of tears.
“I feel ya, buddy,” Tony muttered from his seat on the couch.
Holding his breath, he took a swig of the awful concoction Courtney had served him.
When she invited him, Tony tried to play it cool. “Will there be liquor?” he’d asked, giving her a coy wink. “If I can't drink, then I can’t go.”
His assigned styrofoam cup had been full of one clear or brown after the other since he’d arrived. The remnants of each previous mixture pricked at his tastebuds through what was presently intended to be a gin and juice.
Tony wasn’t sure if Courtney was trying to impress him or murder him, but just in case the first was true, he drank each cocktail with a smile.
There was no use smiling from the couch. In the open dining room, Courtney had her back to him as she whispered and conspired with a group of her uni classmates.
Adrian, who was supposed to be Tony’s wingman but had slowly drifted farther from him and closer to Ruth throughout the evening, waved at him from beside the fireplace. Ruth laughed as Adrian’s eyes widened and he jerked his head toward the dining room, mouthing, “Go talk to her!”
Setting his jaw, Tony shrugged a “Fine!”
With all the grace of someone five styrofoam drinks to the wind, Tony rose from the couch.
“Oh! It’s snowing. I love the snow,” Ruth was cooing as he shuffled by. “But I can’t stand the rain against my window.”
“You’re so cute when you’re contradictory.” Adrian kissed her with his whole tongue.
Gross. Tony rolled his eyes, Nowadays, every lit major wants to talk like they’ve got something to say. But it’s just a bunch of gibberish. Using his hand as a blinder, he continued toward Courtney.
He was two steps away when she and her conspirators turned in unison, facing him. Tony froze, but none of them seemed to notice he was there.
“Everyone, go to the living room!” Courtney shouted, “It’s time for truth or dare!”
Tony lost her in the rush of excited partygoers. In the end, Courtney was in his place on the couch, while he was left standing by Ruth and Adrian, who were close to becoming one.
Ugh. Y’all are gonna make me lose my mind! Tony sneered at the backs of their heads.
Someone told the truth about their crush on a professor. Someone else was dared to kiss the person opposite them in the circle. And so the game went on.
It seemed as if Courtney was avoiding him. He was almost sure she was averting her eyes from his general direction. But suddenly, she locked in on him. “Tony! You go next!”
“Uhhh… dare?” He nudged Adrian.
His friend separated from Ruth with a slurp and a glare, asking, “What?!”
Tony wiggled his eyebrows as if to say, “Dare me to kiss her cheek or something.”
But it was Ruth who chimed in.
“I dare you to kiss the snowman. I mean, really lay the mack down.” She giggled.
Courtney was laughing, too, as she said, “Well, Tony?”
“Pfft. Yeah. Whatever. I’ll do it.” Tony tutted and went to the mudroom for his coat.
The snow was slick beneath his feet, and more than once his arms went flailing to maintain his balance. But as promised, Tony locked lips with the snowman and even gave it a light reach around… And then he screamed like a startled chihuahua as the snowman spoke.
“Don’t break my heart!” it cried out in a familiar, though altered voice. “My achy breaky icy heart!”
It was unmistakably Adrian, doing a high-pitched tone through a speaker behind the snowman.
Crestfallen, Tony returned inside. As he expected, the room was full of rancorous laughter.
Courtney walked up, red-faced and grinning. Tony braced himself for a joke at his expense, but instead she said, “It’s my turn, and I dare you to do that to me.”
WC: 741
Lyrics:
If I can’t drink, then I can’t go. Durrough
I can’t stand the rain against my window. Missy Elliot
Nowadays every[body] wants to talk... Eminem
Y’all [gone] make me lose my mind. DMX
Achy Breaky Heart - Billy Ray Cyrus