Accidental Distress Signal

Gay, in a moment of pure, unadulterated exuberance, decided to teach Barry the finer points of intergalactic boogying. His spaceship, a shimmering orb of pure disco energy, pulsed with a life of its own, mirroring the frantic, joyful beats emanating from its surprisingly robust sound system. Barry, despite his initial reservations about the entire alien abduction situation, found himself tapping his foot. Gay’s moves were, to put it mildly, spectacular. He spun, he twirled, he executed a series of leaps and pirouettes that defied gravity and common sense. His translucent skin, usually a kaleidoscope of shifting hues, intensified, radiating pure, unadulterated glee.

“Feel the rhythm, Barry!” Gay trilled, his voice a melodious chime that somehow cut through the thumping bass. “Let the cosmic funk flow through your very essence!”

Barry, clinging precariously to a console that was currently flashing with more neon than a Las Vegas casino, managed a weak smile. “It’s… very rhythmic, Gay. Truly. But are you sure that particular maneuver is… advisable?”