The Friday Hoff

Maligned by his love, The Hoff dons some suspenders, pleated pants, and clogs, stands amid a forest filled with musical notes and violet haze, and sings his little Hoffian heart out in a midnight melody especially for a big-banged Mortitia Adams.

Ed. Note: Seconds 44-49 are of especial interest, when The Hoff is momentarily overcome with ecstacy at the thought of what he might be able to do in a night alone and then, remembering the solemnity of "the song of the night," adjusts his visage to look appropriately lost in the emptiness.