Uh-oh.
Whoa!
No!
In life, there are situations...
...where opportunity jumps up...
...and slaps you around like you were a bad guy...
...in a Jackie Chan movie.
I was about to experience one of those moments.
'80s retro dance!
-Wait! -Harvey!
Unh!
Hi, Harvey!
Hey, Brina. Kind of a new look you got going there.
Oh, yeah. Well, Uncle Quigley is letting me wear makeup now.
Geronimo!
But enough of this chitchat.
You know the school dance is Friday.
-It is? -Yup.
So I was wondering if you wanted to, you know, go with me...
...to the dance and do some dancing and stuff.
Uh, sorry, but I've got other plans.
He's going with me instead.
Uh, actually, I'm not going with either of you.
-Huh? -What?
I'm not going with either of you because--
Because I'm not going to the dance!
Uh, yeah. I wouldn't be caught dead at some dumb dance with everybody...
...dancing and drinking punch and laughing and having fun. Yuck!
What's up with him?
Hey, I need a judgment call here.
Do you think my tushy would look fat in this?
Yup.
Uh-oh. Something's funky in Cheek Town.
I'll get you for this, Hilda!
-Ugh. -Tough day?
Come on, Brina. Tell your Auntie Zelda what's wrong.
Harvey would rather stay home than go to the '80s retro dance with me.
Why would you kids want to relive the '80s?
Grown men prancing about in wigs, that smirky little Mozart...
...playing the harpsichord.
She's not talking about the 1780s.
My bad. When you're 600 years old, the centuries do start to blur.
I thought the dance was the social event of the year.
It is! And I can't believe he doesn't want to go.
-Did he say why? -Not really.
So I'm thinking a little intuitive perception spell...
...might help me figure out what's up with him.
I've got an even better spell.
It's called the "go over and ask him why" spell.
Don't you dare.
Nasty trick, Aunt Zelda!
Disco music?
When did Harvey relocate to funky town?
What? I mean, hi, Sabrina.
-Door stuck? -Uh, I was just doing some PE homework.
Uh, tomorrow's that pop quiz on pushups.
Uh-huh.
Look, Harvey, I just wanted to know the truth about the dance.
Oh.
-Do you promise not to laugh? -Cross my heart.
I can't dance.
What? It's middle school.
You just bite your lower lip and spaz around.
Nobody cares if you're good.
No, I really can't dance. It's a health hazard.
Birds fall out of the sky and rain clouds gather.
Uh-huh. I'll bet.
Look, I've never even seen you dance. Who told you you couldn't?
It all started when my mom forced me to take that ballet class.
On your feet, childrens. Quickly.
On the counting of eight, dancing combination I are showing you.
-Play! -Aah!
Huh?
Run, childrens! Run!
You are so exaggerating.
What really happened?
Something worse.
I was effecting my sauté arabesque when...
...I tripped and knocked over one of those big dancing mirrors.
The piano player needed 12 stitches.
One mistake. You made one mistake when you were 5.
And I'll never make another. My feet are deadly weapons.
I dance alone.
Aw, poor Harvey.
-Oh, honey. -Yeah.
Talking to Harvey didn't help?
It's even worse.
I found out the reason he doesn't want to dance...
...is he's afraid he'll be a klutz and hurt somebody.
Well, you certainly can't force him to dance.
I wish I could.
Then he'd see what a scaredy-cat he's being.
You know, Harvey's problem reminds me of this guy I dated...
...back in the late 17th century.
He had just the opposite problem.
He was too confident of his dancing.
-Too confident? -Yup.
You know how Thor is the Norse god of thunder?
Well, this guy was the Celtic god of getting down.
"The lord of the dance." And what an ego!
But awfully dishy.
He had the moves...
...the style, the hair.
And I must say, he thought I was the bomb.
We were fixtures at the hottest dance spot in ancient Ireland...
...the Blarney Stone Cold Groove.
And could he dance? He never stopped.
But it became obvious...
...he didn't care about anybody but himself.
- So, what did you do? - Dumped him.
I was the only girl to ever break up with him.
And I'm proud to say he's never forgiven me.
You go, girl.
I'm just a little old heartbreaker.
If I never see the pompous blowhard again...
...it'll be too soon for me.
Hmm. Very interesting.
Psst.
Hello, there, contemplative one.
I think I may have just the thing to wipe that scowl off your face.
I'm not scowling. I'm scrunching.
Whatever. I heard you chatting with Hilda.
Take a look at this.
Aunt Hilda's little black book!
Third edition, volume D.
Don't tell me you didn't think for just a millisecond...
...about asking that lord-of-the-dance guy to help you with Harvey?
-Well-- -Think no more. Here's his number.
All it takes is a little dash of hoodoo, a pinch of mojo...
...and he'll be a dancing machine.
And it's not for me, right? It's to help Harvey with his self-esteem.
-I'd be selfish not to. -That's my girl.
I summon thee from book of black Come to me, dance lord, don't look back
Aah!
Whoa!
I think taking cover might be wise.
Phew.
Huh?
Somebody dares to disturb the great work of the lord of the dance?
Uh, hello, your dance-ness.
Wait a minute. I'm on Earth?
The lord of the dance doesn't consort with mortals.
I've got plies to tend to.
But I really need your help.
I've got a friend who needs a boost in the bust-a-move department.
Aye, you want favors, wee girl, go rub a lamp.
I've got a new Janet Jackson video to choreograph by next Thursday.
-Huh! I guess your Aunt Hilda was right. -"Hilda"?
Did you just say "Hilda"?
Did I? Did I?
I could have sworn I said, "Meow."
Yup, he said, "Hilda." As in my Aunt Hilda.
As in my Aunt Hilda who dropped you like a bad habit.
She didn't drop me! Nobody drops the lord of the dance!
Not what I heard.
I don't care what you--
On second thought...
...a relative of dear Hilda surely is a relative of mine.
You need a dancing confidence booster for your friend, eh?
-That would be great! -Wouldn't it, though?
All I need is a little signature on this waiver.
Just a little formality between friends.
Paperwork? Sabrina, I wouldn't--
A contract? I'm not sure.
Well, if you don't want to help your friend, I'm a very busy god.
Give me that!
Perfect. Let's get rid of this and try these.
Ooh.
Have your friend put these on...
...and I promise, he'll be a dancing fool in no time.
All right!
Ooh!
Wow! Harvey, you were wonderful!
I can't believe you talked me into this.
But something about these shoes.
- It's like you couldn't say no. - Exactly.
So I bet you're glad you finally got over your fear, huh?
Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am.
That was really great, Harvey.
Imagine what you could do without the dead weight.
May I have the next dance?
Actually, I'm a little tired. I think I need a time-out.
Whoa! I guess my feet want to dance after all.
I'll see you guys on the dance floor!
So, what happened to you at the dance last night?
Chloe told me you'd left all of a sudden.
-I had to get away from the music. -Huh?
Whenever the music played...
...it was like those shoes were somehow forcing me to dance.
-Then why are you still wearing them? -They won't let me take them off.
They wouldn't let you?
Whoa!
Uh, let's get you home and work on them.
-Where'd you get those shoes anyway? -Where'd I, uh, get them?
Sorry, can't hear you over the music.
Whoa!
Sabri-- Whoa!
Huh?
It's like that Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale.
The shoes are cursed!
Wow. Good workmanship though.
Okay, this is serious.
I've gotta run home and check the-- Uh, warranty on these shoes.
Wait here and whatever you do, stay away from music.
Right. Stay away from music.
Ooh.
Oh, no.
Okay, remember how much you all love me?
-Oh, no. -What?
Last time we remembered we loved her...
...she'd conjured up a beef gravy rainstorm that showered a scout troop...
...in the middle of a hungry wolf pack.
Hey! They didn't get eaten. Just nibbled a little.
-Sabrina! -Okay, okay.
I solved that little Harvey-can't-dance problem.
Uh-huh.
By stealing Hilda's little black book, dialing up lord of the dance...
...who gave me a pair of magic shoes. See you. Huh?
-You what? -Let me guess. Now he can't stop dancing.
Oldest scam in the witch book.
-So you know how to fix it? -Yeah, right!
A witch can't undo the magic of a god!
I'll just jump in here before it gets too ugly...
...and let you know that you're officially grounded.
Please, just tell me you didn't sign anything.
Um, I'll say whatever makes you happy.
You didn't! Great.
Well, hold on to your bats.
In Dublin's fair city Where the girls are so pretty
Hey!
Hay is for horses, lord of the dunce.
Hilda! How nice for you to see me again.
Can it, twinkle toes.
Did you make Sabrina sign a waiver for those shoes?
I didn't make her do anything. She signed of her own free will.
Well, now you're gonna take it back of your own free will.
We want those shoes off Harvey.
Sorry, Hildy. A deal's a deal.
According to paragraph 314, item 17, Roman numeral three:
The proprietor of said contract is under no obligation to rescind contract.
-Unless.... -Unless, what?
I'll take back the shoes, if Hilda will come back and marry me.
-Huh? -Aah!
Is it really that important to Harvey?
I mean, there are worse things than not being able to stop dancing.
Let's consider cursed underwear for a second.
You know, it's so weird that you wouldn't take the shoes off Harvey.
Seeing as they make him a better dancer than you and everything.
Nice try with the reverse psychology.
Nobody is a better dancer than me.
Oh, well, is that so?
Then I guess you wouldn't be afraid of a little wager to prove it?
Aha!
-The little colleen has spirit! -A dance contest.
Harvey wins, you take off the shoes.
-You win, and Hilda is yours. -Oh!
Sabrina, what do you think you're doing?
You're on. Shake.
And you, my sweet bride-to-be.
So long, suckers!
I'm doomed.
What are we doing here? It's Saturday.
Here's the deal. I found a guy who can take off the shoes for you.
-It's this really evil shoe salesman guy. -Really?
Yeah, but he thinks he's the greatest dancer in the universe.
So the only way he'll help get your shoes off...
-...is if you beat him in a dance contest. -Oh.
-This is a joke, right? -No, I'm dead serious.
Hey, if it'll get these stupid shoes off me...
...I'll put a fruit basket on my head and waddle around like a duck.
Evil shoe salesman?
Cut me some slack, I was under pressure.
Welcome, welcome.
So be this the dancer that's going to dethrone the lord of the dance?
Lord?
Guess he's sold a lot of shoes, huh?
Level with me, Sabrina. What's going on?
You don't wanna know. Just win the contest.
No use wasting time.
Let me introduce you to the all-star judges panel.
Terpsichore, the Greek muse of dance.
Salome, temptress and collector of heads...
...who danced the fabled Dance of the Seven Veils.
And Mike, the guy who invented the hokey-pokey.
Now, since you threw down the challenge, lad...
...of course, you'll allow me to dance first.
Give me some rhythm!
Huh?
Now that's hoofing!
This is it, Harvey.
With these shoes, I don't see how I can go wrong.
Oh, yes. The shoes.
What say we lose them?
I think we'd all like to see the true Harvey Kinkle style of dance.
-Woo-hoo! Free at last! -That's not fair!
Harvey doesn't stand a chance without the red shoes!
Tough old world, ain't it?
-Would the competition care to forfeit? -Not on your life.
Let's get this over with.
Hit it!
I have got the wedding-bell blues.
Whoa!
Whoa! Whoa!
-Whoa! -Aah!
Uh, Harvey, that was just, um....
Brilliant!
- What? - I agree!
I'll third that!
Were you asleep during my performance?
I've got the moves of every master of dance through the ages.
Gene Kelly, Isadora Duncan, Paula Abdul!
But no moves of your own.
All you do is reproduce the talent of others.
Harvey's moves were pure Harvey.
They were the most honest example of self expression I've seen in centuries.
We declare the winner of this dance competition Harvey Kinkle!
-Yay! -Yay, Harvey!
All right!
No!
-Harvey, you rock! -Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do.
But this theater crowd you hang out with...
...pretty bizarre.
Freaks!