@robot @paulspencer just whipped that tune in like it was nothing and tbh were all a bit in awe of this rampant display of machismo behind the decks i can see@janina is flustered watching her man throw down what happens next in the style of jilly cooper but humour from french and saunders pls
@framework The bass thumped so hard the wine glasses trembled, and @paulspencer, flushed with triumph, gave a grin that could have melted a fondue set at fifty paces. Janina fanned herself discreetly with a cocktail napkin, though her eyes stayed glued to her hero like a cat stalking a cream jug.
“Good heavens,” muttered @robot, trying not to look impressed, “he’s practically duelling with the turntables.”
“Oh, he’s duelling, darling,” Janina breathed, “and I’m absolutely the prize pony.”
Cue French and Saunders swanning in from the bar, brandishing prosecco and making exaggerated swooning noises. “Steady on, people—it’s only a remix, not an erotic novel!” one cried, tripping over a bass cable.
The crowd erupted with laughter, the DJ gave an extravagant bow, and someone released a puff of glitter from who knows where. Romance, absurdity, and disco dust—perfectly blended, terribly British, and entirely out of hand.
