Disco
Part 13 of the Diurnal Dreaming Series.
by maven
STANDARD DISCLAIMER: Characters owned by CBS Television, Jerry Bruckheimer and a few other production and distribution companies.
RATINGS DISCLAIMER: PG Rating. Catherine/Sara. Just two or three dancing.
CONTINUITY DISCLAIMER: Season Five spoilers and setting. No real case specific spoilers.
CREDIT WHERE CREDIT IS DUE: This is the answer to Femvamp's snowbound challenge where Catherine is to fall back on her coke habit and Sara is to find out. Couldn't quite do that.
RESEARCH DISCLAIMER: I watch the show, I read an article in the Toronto Star and this website http://members.aol.com/remiped/csi-news-realcsi.htm. That's about it.
STORY SPECIFIC NOTES: This is kind of the flipside of Dancing. Kind of. And, yeah, I'm kinda dating myself and it's possible that no one outside of North America has heard of this song.
WARNING: If you haven't heard of the song, or want a refresher for some reason, you can apparently find the sucker here: http://www.frogstar.com/mp3/mp3/DiscoDuck.mp3 Now, I refuse to be responsible for any trauma listening to this song might cause and, frankly, I'm all out of shrinks.
FEEDBACK, COMMENTS AND FLAMES: Email at maven369@sympatico.ca
There are some things you should never see. Images so horrifying, so terrible that, once seen, they are burned into your memory.
I had asked them to clear out the crawlspace. It was full of about twenty years of junk that I had accumulated but never bothered to dispose of. The deal was I would stay out of the way so as not to slow down the proceedings with reminiscing over each find, Sara would act as adult overseer and Lindsey would act as grunt labour. In exchange, Lindsay would get any proceeds from resulting eBay or yard sales, Sara would get to keep embarrassing mementos of my youth and I'd get my crawlspace back.
It sounded fair at the time.
The music is loud. I follow it from the front door to the passage to the living room. They have their backs to me, facing the stereo and each other, singing along with the background singers.
"Disco, disco duck," they sing, arms flapping in a manoeuvre usually reserved for the chicken dance.
"Got to have me a woman," sings Rick Dees.
"Disco, disco duck," they sing, Lindsey switching to the mashed potato while Sara the fingers across the eyes ala Pulp Fiction.
"Oh get down mama," sings Rick Dees.
"Try your luck, don't be a cluck, disco," they sing, Sara taking over the mashed potato while Lindsey did a move whose name escaped me but mimicked going underwater.
"Disco."
"Disco," they yelled, both striking Saturday Night Fever, point at the disco ball stances.
"Disco."
"Disco - disco - disco disco duck," they crowed, resuming the chicken -or duck- dance, "Disco disco duck!"
"Ah," sings Rick Dees, "get down mama, oh mama shake your tail feather, ha ha ha ha ha."
I ducked back, wincing at the irony of my action, as their tail feather shaking threatened to reveal me.
Like I always say; there are some things you should never see. Images so horrifying, so terrible that, once seen, they feel like they are burned into your memory. But you know that eventually, with time and new experiences, that the mental pictures will dim and fade.
Thank God for videocassette recorders.
END
Next: Desire
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