Morning!
Just popped in to see if I could find anything to cheer me up after the overnight shock.
Brilliant again ahouch. The suspense over what happens next is killing me!😊
Originally Posted by ahouch:
“'I feel like a right idiot in this'. He adjusts his mortar board as they wait for the music to begin.
'Just play their game Jay. Do exactly what we did in rehearsals and everything will be fine. This song, these outfits. All Good'.
And so it begins, selfies through gritted teeth and running the length of the dance floor as they disrobe. He catches an odd smell in his nostrils as he does so. What is that?
A bit of Charleston towards Aliona and then they are in hold. But there is something strange. The floor doesn't feel the same as it did in rehearsal. Something is off. Tearing up the dance floor like two thoroughbreds. They bounce, and fly through the air.
He catches a glimpse of the judges in the corner of his eye. Too-white smug grins. Why?
But suddenly it all changes. He slips and slides on landing from a difficult piece of choreography. He recovers and continues. But it happens again and again. Is it his shoes? The floor? Something's a foote. Georgia May?..
By now they are wildly out of time with each other. Their heads morph slowly into the images of two painted carousel ponies. One rising as the other falls.
'This isn't going so well Jay,' she whispers through gritted teeth, 'keep going, keep going.'
They stumble to the end, exhausted but relieved to have survived. They hug, he whispers in her ear 'Somethings wrong Ali. That should never have happened'.
He leans down and touches the surface of the dancefloor. It is covered in a fine liquid film. He rubs the substance between his fingers and then smells it. That strange aroma is baby oil mixed with fake tan. That could have done some serious damage.
Sabotage.
Someone's got it in for them. Someone wants the Strictly title and is desperate enough to take drastic measures to do so. They feel an invisible target appear on their backs, or is it just a spotlight as they walk towards the judges?
Those once petrified faces now show a new smug resolve. The competition is back on, the story arc restored. They return to their scripted persona's.
In the shadows of the studio a faint but familiar shuffle bull change can be heard. Focussing on where the noise came from the only things visible are shiny black shoes, protruding chin and pearly whites. The figure turns and disappears into the darkness - Brucie? Anton?
They run to the Clauditorium welcomed by cheers, applause and sympathetic smiles. Everyone pats them on the back, or is it stabs them? They scan the room around them, looking for tells. It could have been anyone. A fellow contestant? A pro? Production? A judge? Tess or Claudia? Just who can they trust?
Scores received they exit the studio and walk down the corridor past the glitterball trophy now encased in glass with extra security. They thought after last week it was theirs. But it seems someone has other plans for them. Playing by the rules this week hasn't worked, someone else is already breaking them.
Aliona channels her inner Bond villain. She arches one eyebrow and whispers conspiratorially;
'Time for a new plan Jamesik...'”