You hitch up your tutu and leap into the air, beating your feet to and fro,
and beating one of your opponents senseless in the process. Then, with a
quick pirouette, you catch the other a glancing blow across the cheek. He
falls into the orchestra pit, where his head becomes jammed in the funnel
of a large trombone. The crowd roars. The referee pronounces you the undisputed
champion of the ballet. As you take your bow, somebody in the crowd tosses
you a bouquet of flowers. Pretty yellow flowers. A host of snapping crocodills
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