“Can’t you keep this beast under control?” Jamal swat Jenya’s tail from his face, angry at the object that had so unceremoniously ruined his cha-cha. “Step aside, newbie! Let me show you how it’s done!”
“It’s not my fault the little jerk won’t hold still!” Jenya scoffed at her behind, a beast that seemingly had a mind of its own.
Weary of his partner’s incompetence, Jamal looked across the room, his eyes meeting the pristine goggles of one he’d never have thought he would be able to tango with again. His old dance partner was there, smiling coyly behind his mask(ing tape). There stood Jack, giving the Kait that familiar, goofy stare.
Surely, this was fate. Jamal grinned to himself, unleashing his full power. Now the title “Lord of the Dance” would be his! “This’ll be quick,” he said to himself, as he prepared to reveal his ultimate routine.
In awe of the new determination in his foe’s aura, Sam stared, losing track of his own motions and stepping on Matt’s toes.
“I would recommend you pay full attention,” Matt scoffed, toes sore, “or we’ll never win this competition.”
And, of course, Matt was never wrong.