When you are in the desert, starving and dying of thirst, and someone gives you a canteen of water, you will gulp it down and swear it’s the best water you ever had.

Same goes for entertainment when you’re sitting, bored, waiting for a show to start.

Shakira asks, “Do you remember the Lambada dance?”

DO WE!?!

Listen, James, if it was up to me, I’d hop on a plane myself and get it done, but I can’t.

You’re going to have to do it. I’m entrusting you, James, with this mission.

Now, I know that they’re your friends and that you like to hang out, but I need you to be a professional here. I need you to stand next to them at the Kenny Chesney show and as soon as they start wiggling and flailing and moving their upper limbs like goddamned used car lot inflatable wind puppets you need to show them.

Do it quickly. Do it well. Show them how to dance at a concert because if you don’t, the brass are going to have my ass on a pike outside the Pentagon and you, me and this whole operation will have failed.

Make me proud, James. School those sloppy shimmy dorks how to really dance. Just stand next to them and blow their fucking minds with that magic you’ve got in those well-oiled joints of yours.

Do it for me, but more importantly, James, do it for your country.

When he danced, this Man of Squeal, someone yelled out, “What’s your Kryptonite?”

As he grabbed his crotch and thrusted, he yelled back, “When someone turns off the music!”

We’ve always wanted to see Monsters of Concert Dance, but now that we’ve seen it, we are too awed to go on and on about it.

While you were texting and nodding your head at the band, this man was p0wning your unwrinkled ASS.

You didn’t even know it.

This is what happens when well-cooked noodles take on human form.

Starting at about 0:28, we begin to see the way the universe was created out of chaos, not with a gigantic explosion, but with a modest little bit of popping.

Seriously, we don’t care how good you or your band are, you are not going to be the center of attention once this guy gets on stage. You’re basically just the accompaniment. Live with that, Plain White T’s.

Another year, another Austin City Limits Festival and its annual allotment of dance craziness. We leave you this year with this very talented dancing chicken. Until next year!