Must be Jelly ...

'cause jam don't shake like that

It’s a wonderful night
You’ve gotta shake it for me
It’s a wonderful night

Come on and break it on down

Girl I want it you got it
Your body’s like a narcotic
The thought is auto-erotic

Come on and break it on down
-Fatboy Slim

I am not sure if it was my singing .. or just because I was so dirty that I was unrecognizable. Coated with dust and dirt .. crusted with sweat ... I was a generic Tuchuk. The disturbance of scars along my cheek could be seen but the colors were muted and my deeds were anonymous. Those gathered around an outrider's fire gestured for me to join them. There was paga and celebration for the soul purpose of .. well ... celebration. Were there not enough things to celebrate? We were alive. The bosk were well. The axles were greased ... the quiva were sharp .. it was a good day.

So for a few moments I enjoyed the life of every Tuchuk. No one saluted me .. there were no signs of recognition for my position ... only that I was a Tuchuk man and that was enough. It is not often that I sit with my own people as one of them and not the Ubar. No one paused at the edge of my furs .. no Turian slaves washed the feet of those that approached .. not that I sit on a dais and put myself above those at the First Wagons but my position is always there ... and here it was just me and the others sitting on the grass and drinking paga and singing songs of great battles and greater men. Men whose names are remembered among us as great warriors of courage. There were drums .. and flutes and soon a sassy Tuchuk slave girl with finger cymbals began to dance. She was beautiful and her rhythm was hypnotic. She cavorted and teased .. spun and revealed and soon we all began to wager with laughter for her use. It was a haphazard contest .. a mixture of skill and wagering. By both chance and talent I won and among the whistles and yells I threw her down and made use of her beneath the stars and among men of my blood .. brothers of my flesh ... and she was game. Still teasing and flirting when I threw her to the next man and toasted him with the bota of paga as she performed as well for him as she had for me.

There in that small world of firelight and stars I misplaced my dismals and got the rhythm back in my step.