Let's dance!

After seeing his precious Stradivarius in the hands of a common detective, and upon hearing what said detective did with the instrument, Phil flies into a rage. Apparently he's already forgotten that he was only recently about to smash the instrument over his son's head. (I bet if this strip was in color, his eyes would be red, too.) Meanwhile, in the grand tradition of the man from the bank who tried to stop a pack of demon dogs with dance, the guests at Ambassador U. Niform's gala cope with the prospect of being blown to smithereens by throwing the greatest dance party the world has ever seen. They've got it all, folks. The Twist, The Running Man, The Monkey, The Robot, and of course, a generous, generous helping of jazz hands. In fact, the only one who seems to be taking this seriously is Tess (and that could be only because her husband was the one last seen carrying the bomb), who is finally putting her T-Rex Arms illness to good use (though, and I could be wrong, it looks like one of her hands might now be on backwards. Will that poor woman's suffering never end?).
While the guests cope with their imminent doom in the only ways they know how, Tracy finally finds the pool, and not a moment too soon, for shortly after throwing the instrument in, it explodes with a great FLOOOOOMM! Sorry folks, looks like there will be no pool party tomorrow. (On the plus side, there might be skateboarding or hand ball.) The force of the explosion sends Tracy sprawling to the ground as it tosses umbrellas and breaks window after window. I don't know about Tracy (though I have to believe he'll survive because, well, it's his comic), but someone is going to have a lot to clean up when this is all over.