Behind the (Ob)scenes at Dancing with the Stars 2.

The Pond suffered an avalanche of attention, all unsolicited, after my recent revelations from backstage rodents burrowing beneath the set of Dancing With The Stars.

Could what this Frog says be true? No, it’s all made up. But, wait, that part sounds right. Ah, the difficulties that we all have in separating truth from friction, rumor from humor.

What can I do, then, but attempt to unearth more from those who serve and, occasionally, observe- the unnoticed rodents of TV World?

I would remind you that my mole has significant personal issues, so these few notes should not be regarded as gospel or epistle, but mere testament to the heightened effect some shows have upon all those who come into contact with them, even if one of the effects is excessive ingestation of ganja and foxtrot powder.

My mole was extremely talkative, in something of a slow way, late last night.

She tittled here and tattled there about excessive diva behavior and, her words, Pout Culture.

Last night’s show revealed tensions, some of which, I am told, were to be seen in the rearest of backgrounds while the contestants were being interviewed after their performances.

I have been told that I should concentrate very carefully on who was smiling and at what moment during those little vox populi, well, vox celebrites, if one wishes not to stray from one’s Latin roots.

And I hope everyone noticed how correctly many of the couples behaved in the few seconds after their dances were over.

Those few seconds, according to those who know, reveal as much about a pairing’s sharing than any bodily entwinement during the pas de deux.
Last night, everything was played with a correctitude last seen at a Carmelite Hoedown.

But there was one serious intake of breath that echoed amongst those backstage (and, I am told, a couple of people nearer the footlights) after Derek Hough’s spectacularly humorous, or who knows, (dis)armingly truthful suggestion that in order to get Pretty Betty to do his bidding:

“I slap her around a little bit.”

It would perhaps surprise you that there is more than one woman in the wider circle of Dancing With The Stars that has come into contact with man’s inhumanity to woman.

There is even speculation (and experts would suggest that this is supported statistically) that one of the six women contestants may have had some familiarity with the experience.

Would it therefore be legitimate to ask what thought drifted just beneath Mr. Hough’s immaculate fringe that spurred him to suggest that he gave Pretty Betty a good ole’ slapping to get her to, er, dance to attention?

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As this is a site that floats on the wry haha rather than the right hook, I find myself questioning what on earth I am doing here at all.

The natural instinct of many would, of course, have been to wonder whether Mr. Hough, who seems to be something of a Mormon, expected to have several wives to slap around in the not-too-distant future.

It would have been to ask whether it had been dancing with Jenny, the uptight lady from Beverley Hills 90210, that first inspired him to use violence as a sort of dancer’s valium.

But I wonder if there might be some who would find his declaration of tough love just a little south of repulsive.

Slow. Slow. QuickQuick. Slap. Let’s try it again, Betty. Slow, Slow, QuickQuick. Slap.

Perhaps the sensitive Ciceros of the TV forums might like to offer their considered reaction.

Normal attempts at humorous service will be resumed with the next post.

The Pond thanks Hamed Saber for his image of dancing manhood.

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