Jareth

if only she'd gone in the right direction,
she would've met David Bowie earlier.
I mean, seriously, me too.
I would've looked past that glam metal hair.
except, it wouldn't be looking past—
it'd be looking down at his kickass codpiece.
David Bowie could rule the world with that thing.
imagine:
"Magic Dance" would be the national anthem,
but you'd have to sing it in his voice:
dance magic, dance...
instead of hello, we'd say 'allo,
but that's close enough.
we'd always have tea with the missus.
but really,
aren't we all just stuck in a maze with no ending?
aren't we all just forever chasing our own
private David Bowie codpiece?
don't we all just want people
to dance like Muppets for us?
seriously, Codpiece for President!
with that makeup, he'd mesmerize world leaders
into creating peace everywhere.
dance magic, dance...
instead of real bombs,
they'd be sex bombs.
David Bowie-Labyrinth-shaped sex bombs.
just stop to consider, for a moment,
the hesitation you'd feel
at causing mass genocide
when Jareth shows up for negotiations
and whispers sweet peace in your ear.
he's the Goblin King!
you don't fuck with that!
instead of executions, he'd remind you
that you remind him of the babe—
and who doesn't want David Bowie calling them a babe?
what babe?
you'd be the babe!
pointing with his perfectly manicured nails!
dance magic, dance...
and you'd have no choice but to dance!
'cause you want to!
thrusting his codpiece at you,
you'd be under his mighty spell.
it'd be beautiful. and the world would just. be. perfect.
but no. she took the long way 'round.
had to go on some long adventure
with puppets and bullshit
and actually had fun.
I want my Jareth now!
he can threaten to take my older brother
any damn time he wants.
in fact, when I get there,
he can keep my brother
and I'll stick around for tea.
as long as I get a lap magic dance afterwards,
rubbing the codpiece on my knee,
I'll be happy.
the end.