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Summary
“Beauty school dropout,” he sings a little off key and a lot too loud, “La la la-- something-- beauty school dropout-- that’s you!”
“You have got to be quieter,” she implores, the first signs of genuine embarrassment coloring her eyes, but laughter on her tongue still.
“I didn’t recognize you without the pink wig,” Peter goes on, too completely overjoyed to really care whether or not his terrible singing had drawn any attention in their direction. “But that’s totally you-- Midtown drama club star Michelle Jones!”
“You know,” Michelle deadpans, “you grow up, graduate college, get a job, and go a good number of years without anyone bringing up that monstrosity of a wig only to run into Ned Leeds’ dorky friend at orientation…”
“Life’s little treasures, huh?” he beams at her.