"This here's LaTour's farewell tour, men," she says, startin' to do some fancy movin' around that makes my skin crawl, watchin' her.
"Baby, you ain't gonna start your routine here, are ya?" Luigi says.
"Shut up, creep, I gotta concentrate," she squelches him.
The professor pipes up like he's half asleep. "You know, Miss LaTour, there must be a destiny about all this...."
"La de day—yeah, that's what that there Aphrodite told my new boy friend," she throws a dazzlin' smile at him over her shoulder, wavin' that white robe around her flawless body.
"It won't seem the same on Venus without you," the professor sort of moans.
"Shut up, professor," Luigi hollers, then that tough voice of his breaks, like he was almost cryin'. "Baby, stop dancin' around."
"Outa my way, ya lug. I'm workin' up to the finale."
"Please, baby. I'll—I'll give ya a million asteroids, honey. I won't smoke no more of them there Saturn Stogies—"
The LaTour's movin' around gets more fancy all the time. She is all the moonbeams and flowers I ever seen, rolled into one. It was easy to unnerstan' how she got to be the big star that she was—even here on rough and ready Venus. She had class, and somethin' else—somethin' that made ya keep watchin' her every movement, like you was hungry for somethin', but ya didn't know what. And you wanted to jump up and down, and holler, but ya just couldn't move because you was watchin' so hard.