Dogs doing lists #25: At The Hop
- Dogs waking during a nightmare about 1996, warbling, “HEY, MACARENA.”
- Dogs leading the assembled students of Elmore City High School in a line dance around a steadily humming electric chair.
- Dogs observing an auditorium writhing in the middle of the Cuban Missile Crisis with the collective expression of the so-called Loco-Motion, and turning diabolically away from the camera, murmuring, “I hope the missiles win.”
- Dogs studying the lurching choreography of a PTSD ward and calling up the American Bandstand studios to confirm, “I can work with this.”
- Dogs mistaking life on Earth for a series of outbreaks of the Bump punctuated by interludes of violence.
- Dogs turning a choreography effects dial to CRAZE and insisting, as the whole world jerks and gyrates in perfect unison, “This is the one where everyone is really alone.”
- Dogs wandering into a nightclub on the outskirts of town to behold the vacuous, impeccably stylized attendees of sock-hop dancing the Twist, each affectless participant swinging gently to an idiosyncratic rhythm and exhibiting, on closer inspection, some kind of neurological impairment or surgical scarring, and murmuring, before the scene fades out and the universe turns its gaze to the compositely motivated face of a lone serial killer, “That’s so Lynchian.”
- Dogs whispering into a Magic 8-Ball, “Is history even real??” and observing in the murky, blue-tinged depths an in-miniature scene of 10,000 ragged slaves limping the Charleston before the Great Pyramid of Giza, on one side of which is carved SIGNS POINT TO YES.
- Dogs flinching visibly as the charred husk of the Earth slips down a neon chute and into a cheerily pulsing stroboscopic void as an unseen voice blares, “THE ELECTRIC SLIDE.”
- Dogs breaking the glass and pulling an emergency handle on a reality engine, and sighing in relief as all civilization segues into a Dance Party Ending.
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