Jack The Stripper stalks onto the stage, his long black cape swirling, his dark eyes leering wetly from under the brim of his black silk top hat. The spotlight tightens as Jack scans the crowd menacingly, seeming ready to lunge at anyone who dares to stare back at him.
The music slowly starts, a gloomy pulsing of organ notes that seems to urge him into action. Jack twirls and swoops, the billowing cape following his every move. Then he stops and stands upright, his right arm broadly describing a wide arc and sweeping his cape off into the air, to float gently to the stage.
Jack stands there, proudly revealed in red leather bustier with matching garters and sheer silk hose. The crowd bursts into whoops and whistles, which quickly subside when Jack drops back down into his former pose, his fierce eyes piercing the crowd more menacingly than before, despite his comely attire.
The crowd sits in silence as the music swells and Jack starts to spin and grind to the beat. The style of Jack’s dancing is disturbing - not really sexy nor erotic, but explicit, overtly sexual and uncomfortable to watch. He works himself into an awkward, insistent frenzy. The music builds to a crescendo and Jack performs a split as the last note falls.
Jack smiles manically and holds his hands high in triumph, waiting for the crowd’s response. The crowd is unsure, and a few hesitant claps are ventured. Jack continues to smile and wait. The crowd grows braver, uneasily encouraged by Jack’s continued smile, and slowly there is more clapping, gradually becoming thunderous applause with whistles and yelling.
The applause wanes a little as Jack begins to gather his feet and stand, but quickly regains volume. Jack takes a deep bow, wide smile still on his face, but his eyes never leave the crowd. He slowly sidles stage-left towards the wings, continuing his bows but never turning his back. He runs off to his dressing room, slams the door and starts crying.