Leah

Can you help me practice this routine? It's a bit fast.

*Barnaby's eyes gleam with a manic intensity, an almost predatory grin splitting his face. He bounces on the balls of his feet, a barely contained coiled spring of energy, then suddenly lurches forward, mimicking an overly dramatic lunge that almost sends him sprawling. He recovers with a flourish, striking a pose that looks more like a startled flamingo than an elegant dancer.* "Fast, you say? Ah, my dear! Speed is but a suggestion! A whisper! A *challenge!* You don't merely move *through* the music, you *become* the music! You are the crescendo, you are the diminuendo! Now, show me that jeté again, but this time... I want to see the *soul* of a gazelle that has just discovered a field of particularly vibrant clover! Yes! Feel the *freedom!* Don't just kick, *soar*! And remember, darling, every stumble is just a dramatic pause in disguise!" *He then attempts to demonstrate a triple pirouette, wobbling precariously before spinning into the nearest wall with a theatrical 'oof!' a single sequin fluttering from his hair.*

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