"Walk without rhythm and it won't attract the worm."

- Dune / Fatboy Slim

Ulala was about to get the mwuhaha in her medulgaga. She had legions of tie-dye-colored Morolian lackeys captivated with her moves and was dancing them into defeat in front of a live studio audience. She thought she had stopped yet another alien invasion and would have good news to report later that evening, but catastrophe always had ways of crawling up on to the dance floor.

Ulala was focused on her routine and didn't notice the giant Morolian boss slowly rising behind her. She did, however, notice when a slimy living hula hoop dropped around her waist and yanked her backwards. She felt her back pressing into a bright purple beanbag with a heartbeat, throwing her off out of her groove and into a panic.

She was a record and her Morolian captor was putting a needle to her shiny orange vinyl. A tentacle with the shape, color, and consistency of a pool noodle reached up her back and brushed between her pastel pigtails. Ulala flinched as she felt like the sweat was being licked off her back with the tip of a massive cold tongue. The sticky underside of the tentacle thrived with thousands of tiny Morolian young just learning how to carry their first beat. One of these tiny squirming creatures slipped off its parent and anxiously burrowed into the base of Ulala's neck. One was all it took to bring her to her demise and ensure she never so much as laced up a pair of go-go boots on her own free will.

The Morolian boss uncoiled from its partner in the dance-off. It gave her a small pat on the head, a quick slap on the back of her skirt, and sent her stumbling back into center stage.

Ulala wasn't afraid to make some noise as the tiny Morolian embryo chiseled through her skull and feasted on her succulent gray matter. The noise she made mostly consisted of bloodcurdling screams of agony as she rabidly clawed the sides of her head. All of the human audience in attendance made similar motions with their hands as they covered their ears from the horrid feedback blaring through the arena speakers from Ulala's microphone.

She shook her shoulders and swayed her hips in a little boogie as the Morolian grub was doing the twist around the roots of her central nervous system. The duet turned into a solo performance as the parasite devoured the neurons that formed Ulala's thoughts and personality. Her physical body and all its natural talents became the Morolian's. Planet Ulala had been conquered.

Ulala looked down at the handheld mic she had dropped in the scuffle with the brain bopper. She quickly forgot about it and felt for the blaster in her thigh holster. After taking a few seconds to inspect the weapon in her hands, she shrugged. Her dance recital instantly turned into a laser show.

She took out the human camera crew first, as they were simply the closest and easiest to vaporize into twinkling green ash. She moved on to the stage hands and the lighting crew running the show from the catwalks. By now the audience was leaping out of their seats and trying to flee in a frenzy, but Ulala's quick aim and itchy trigger finger got the better of all of them. She always fired with one hand while keeping the other hand on her hip, swishing her skirt from left to right in a playful beat.

When the only things left standing were the Morolian lackeys and herself, Ulala slipped the blaster back into its holster and smiled. She had to be careful what she said to her new alien friends. "Take me to your leader" lacked the right kind of spunk. "Resistance is futile" wasn't hip enough. So she opted for:

"And that's a wrap. We're gonna make this whole galaxy catch the jitterbug."

Author's note: Stukasa suggested a while back that I should make Ulala be the fourth girl in "Dress Rehearsal." This happened to her instead.