As far as nightmare-fueling Dancing with the Stars performances go, nothing in the sequence above even approaches Marie Osmond's legendary Baby Doll Dance of Despair—a harrowing journey into wind-up madness that to this day makes our left eyelid twitch whenever we hear the song "Start Me Up" or see the color pink. We'll extend that now to fuchsia, too, as it seems Cloris Leachman's hairpiece-malfunction-plagued rockabilly ballet has already burrowed itself into our subconscious; we hold it singularly responsible for what is sure to be a recurring Busby Berkeley-on-bad-acid fever dream, featuring our worm's-eye view of hundreds of spanky-pants-wearing octogenarians scissor-kicking around us in circle formation.