Seriously, the things that go on in my head. Today as I was in the car, my mom's ipod's shuffle mode (say that three times fast) selected "Paparazzi," by Lady Gaga. The greatest part was seeing my teenage brother do his best imitation of a dog on the freeway. You know, head out the window, pretending like he can't hear us.
The second greatest part was the music video/premonition/bolt of inspiration/mini-trip that struck me.
A ballerina. The "Glee" version of "Poker Face." A guy. Fabulous lighting. The Gaga original of "Paparazzi." A sick female hip hop dancer. A love triangle. Dancing so aggressive it borders on violent. Classical lifts, interspersed with popping. At the end, one girl is standing.
Okay, let's try that again a little bit more coherently. I imagine a graceful routine, vaguely cheeky, performed by a female dancer to the first verse or two of Glee's cover of Gaga's "Poker Face." A male dancer enters, does some basic partnering. The "biggest fan" of paparazzi turns out to be an amazing female hip hop dancer, whom we're introduced to as the music swaps to the original.
A dance battle for the heart of the male dancer ensues, with him proving himself a capable hip hop dancer. I imagine a group element as well, as girls perform as the "paparazzi," and muddle the interaction between the hip hop girl and her conquest. Maybe a group lift with the "ballerina," in a split over the "paparazzi's" heads.
I refuse to give away the ending, except that the song will switch back to the final notes of "she got to love nobody," being belted by the ladies from "Glee."
This is my brain, not on drugs.