So you're the clear favourite to win your national final. You start your performance in a reasonable manner, all demure and meaningful. The beat picks up and you start to bob about a bit, and all is well.
But then the chorus kicks in, and... oh my dear lord in heaven, what the hell is that dance you're doing there girl?!!
You may have won the show tonight, but that ugly little jig of yours will be a real dealbreaker in Stockholm if you insist on keeping it on - so go on, do it... it'll be funny!
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