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moonlettuceTitle: Making Your Mind Up
Author: Claire
Fandom: Eurovision Song Contest ::hangs head in shame::
Rating: PG
Summary: You gotta speed it up and then you gotta slow it down...
Notes: Blame this on me writing wank!fics during Eurovision and Terry Wogan commenting that the reason he couldn't pronounce 'Germanic' properly was that he was "a little bit excited..."
Terry could feel a sigh coming on as the next group took to the stage - yet another country who seemed to think that putting their entrants in as little clothing as possible was a ticket to winning Eurovision.
Although-- he leaned forward in his booth as the dancers writhed on stage, pulsing beat behind them-- that one on the left was a bit of all right. Especially the way she nearly fell out of her top when she bent over.
Shifting in his seat slightly, he glanced over to the bottle of alcohol (he had no idea what it was, but it went down very smoothly) that their hosts had very kindly provided to each country's commentator. Bugger, he didn't think he'd drunk that much; although it did explain why it was starting to get a little hot in the booth.
The dancer on stage moved again, nearly experiencing a-- what was the phrase everyone used nowadays?-- oh yes, a wardrobe malfunction. But what a malfunction it would have been.
Shifting again, Terry glanced at the schedule next to him. They were nearly at the end of the singing but there was still all the voting to go and he just couldn't wait that long-- not if that dancer was going to continue doing that.
Pushing his chair back from the desk slightly, he slid his hand into his trousers and hoped he'd be finished in time to announce the next entry.
Author: Claire
Fandom: Eurovision Song Contest ::hangs head in shame::
Rating: PG
Summary: You gotta speed it up and then you gotta slow it down...
Notes: Blame this on me writing wank!fics during Eurovision and Terry Wogan commenting that the reason he couldn't pronounce 'Germanic' properly was that he was "a little bit excited..."
Terry could feel a sigh coming on as the next group took to the stage - yet another country who seemed to think that putting their entrants in as little clothing as possible was a ticket to winning Eurovision.
Although-- he leaned forward in his booth as the dancers writhed on stage, pulsing beat behind them-- that one on the left was a bit of all right. Especially the way she nearly fell out of her top when she bent over.
Shifting in his seat slightly, he glanced over to the bottle of alcohol (he had no idea what it was, but it went down very smoothly) that their hosts had very kindly provided to each country's commentator. Bugger, he didn't think he'd drunk that much; although it did explain why it was starting to get a little hot in the booth.
The dancer on stage moved again, nearly experiencing a-- what was the phrase everyone used nowadays?-- oh yes, a wardrobe malfunction. But what a malfunction it would have been.
Shifting again, Terry glanced at the schedule next to him. They were nearly at the end of the singing but there was still all the voting to go and he just couldn't wait that long-- not if that dancer was going to continue doing that.
Pushing his chair back from the desk slightly, he slid his hand into his trousers and hoped he'd be finished in time to announce the next entry.
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no subject
Date: 2008-05-25 10:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-25 10:31 pm (UTC)