Picture it, Eurovision, Ireland, 1994.
After years spent lording the dance world with Toni Basil, Nigel & BonBon *spoiler alert* Lythgoe, Candis Cayne, and Ms. Abdul, I got wind that the ‘94 Eurovision was looking to host a dance break during the show.
Assuming – as a past Eurovision contestant/songwriter – that I would get the job, I travelled over and was shocked to find Michael Flatley on the floor in my place.
Obviously I flew into a jealous rage, obviously I tried to call in a bomb threat (the police knew I was a serial pest and ignored the obviously fake calls) to stop the performance and obviously I feuded with Flatley for over two decades.
But then I heard that he was having bone issues last year and reached out to make amends, now that he wasn’t a threat to my dance dynasty.
What says sorry for the years of bitterness I’ve thrown your way?
Picture source: AP Photo / Henny Ray Abrams, File.