And on the twenty-second day of the month of December in the two thousand and eighth year of our Lord, the King did confide to his closest advisor that his nightly entertainment had become a most reprehensible bore. He was now sorely disenchanted with belly dancers and couldn’t bear to witness “not even one more shimmy to snaky music,” as His Majesty put it. The King then instructed his closest advisor to bring him something in the way of dancers that he’d not heretofore feasted his eyes upon. “Bring me a raucous extravaganza!” he’d conveyed to his advisor with excited urgency. Naturally, the first thing that bounced into the advisor’s brain was to procure nine of the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders who, as it turns out, were all too happy to accommodate His Majesty’s wishes.