T'all breeds cock-a-doodle envy ende competitive strutting when dem dudes from de locality arrive 4 a show(down). Dem whose whatever builds up pretty quick, fired up by de spectacle of Yemis' diverted attention. She who's not stoppin' "Today, Today" for no such tin. Dey even demand a time (frame) in de glare of 'er looks. I mean, Time. Dey want a sub-division. But de beat ain't stoppin', eider.
But it's de guy w/ a pipe and hidden baldness, and even badder moves (soon enough unveiled), who has de chimney to Yemi's ultra warm heart. Say, hearth! Try as de oders May, Terry. I mean Teresa.
So what's one to do as temper's tempo, and de tempo's temper, both rise? A dance cock-fight, of course. Contestants on both sides be fynely wardrobed, afta a fashion, for dis O so predictable raga -- already. Hair's all done, dis way and even dat, and cropped. But His Baldness has a secret up his sleeve, and wins hands down, with impossible moves. To Yemi's knowing nod.
De Samba be sweeping de condiment. Right now. Is all.
Fact Check: Only rusty tin I saw was de tins pretendin' 2 b de opening footage -- credits -- 4 dis do.
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