The Prancing Pig Partner.

I'm All Yours, Baby!

I grew up dancing. My father was such a terrific dancer that the people who later feasted with him at a Fourth of July Bar-B-Q celebration were said to be as good as any professional dancer you ever saw do the Johnson Junction Pig Jig. Unfortunately after he passed away we had no one left to bring home the bacon and we had to move to the swamp and grub for a living. I never got to dance much after that because dancing shoes were so expensive and in order for me to really dance well, I had to wear two pairs at a time.