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"Bucholz this underground dancing craze is huge business," Cracked Editor-In-Chief Jack O'Brien said as I walked in to his office. "No it's not." "No it's not," he agreed. "Nevertheless, someone has inexplicably put out
another movie about dancing. Which means that someone out there--women most likely--are watching it." I nodded, understanding where he was going with this. "Cracked needs content written for all the pretty ladies out there." "Exactly. And we need you to write it because" "Because to break this story we'll need someone to go undercover in the illegal dance scene, and as the columnist with the most unchained jungle heat," I said, leaping on to Jack's desk from across the room, "I've got the best chance of making it in and out alive." Jack stared at me for five seconds. "Yes. Because of your quantities of unchained jungle heat. And because you're not doing anything else." "Incorrect," I said, waggling my hips around rhythmically. "I'm doing this." ____ Putting on the most urban outfit I owned, I lunged my way down to the streets and began my search for the underground dance scene.
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Having conducted extensive research on "the scene" using Cracked's library of breakdancing VHS cassettes, I began searching all the usual places for illicit dance blowouts. I checked the abandoned warehouse, only to find it abandoned. Curious. The spacious loft by the docks was occupied by a software company, whose employees had minimal rhythm. And the subway station had people waiting to travel to various destinations around the city, and not exchanging dangerous dance attacks with each other. Was it possible that I was ridiculously out of touch with the day's youth? I was spared the answer ("Holy Shit, Yes") when I stumbled upon an ad stapled to a telephone pole for a breakdancing class at the adult learning annex. So that's where the youth of today spent their time! Edgy. And, at $59 for three 90-minute sessions, a good value. Thrift could also be edgy it seemed. ___ "Hello. My name is Chris Bucholz, and my style is Danger Pharaoh Sitcom," I announced to the assembled dance crew, silently praying they'd accept me as one of their own. "This is a sequence I call the