Congratulations Graceless Ballerina!

You’re a really clumsy ballerina, and today is your day to shine. That’s because Danish post-modern dance master Kellig Varstav made a ballet all about a really tall, pretty lady crashing into tables and he thinks, no, fuck that, KNOWS that you’re perfect for the part.

He’ll call you super late tonight and lay it on you:

“Ya,” he’ll say in what we imagine a Danish accent to sound like. “I am wanting you to be of having to dance for my shows.”

You’ll understand what he means and shout “FUCK YES!” before you even ask if you have to fuck him to get the part (you normally have to do this). Rehearsals will start next week, and consist mostly of you purposefully running into walls, tables, chairs and, sometimes, other dancers. This kind of behavior is what usually gets you thrown out of dance troupes, but for once it will serve you well.

By the time opening night rolls around you’ll be covered in bruises all over your body. You’ll wear a long, flowing dress and lots and lots of concealer to cover them, but some (most of them on the inside of your arms) will still show. The audience won’t notice.

They’ll be so taken with the reality of your motions, the gravity of the bodily harm you accept without complaint or apparent notice, that they’ll all fall in love with you then and there. You’ll become a worldwide sensation. And sure, you won’t be able to work in a decade because of the thoroughness of your bruises (so many bruises) but you’ll have a world of people who absolutely love your performances and, for some reason, VHS tapes of all of them to sustain you into your old age, which will be your forties since you’ll deal early of over-bruising.

Congratulations Graceless Ballerina!