Dancin with Norms percussion on my own

Most of you probably haven’t seen Reg dance, so I should explain it to you.

When Reg takes his “classic moves” to the dance floor everyone else steps aside to just watch – well, that is everyone except a few of the most self confident women who wildly accommodate him. When Reg begins to dance he has a tendency to fix his gaze on the percussion section without blinking. When somebody stares at the percussion section like this it just encourages them, and Reg knows this. He not only stares at them, he sings to them, snapping his fingers like a bull whip. This, of course, drives the percussionists into a frenzy and once they have obtained a fevered pitch to Reg’s satisfaction, he turns his attention to the ladies.

He gets funky. Very funky.

Many swoon. Few can keep up. The bass groove pumps the funk through their veins. The entire club jives as a single pulsating organism, gasping for each other exhaled air. Reg assumes control of the willing marionettes and the roof soars away.

The management smiles as the song ends: the bar sales will be very good while the sweat is mopped from the dance floor.