That’s right: Dinklage, this weekend’s host, played a club performer whose avant-garde-y musical stylings interrupted a very serious mafia meeting going on at the table in front of the stage.
The mafiosos, who are maybe about to shoot one another, kept being distracted by Dinklage’s tune, with such lines as, “Look at my pants/With the eyes in your face!/My legs are covered/In outer space/Space pants!/Space pants!/I am wearing/Space pants!”
And then Stefani showed up, wearing space shorts, of course (“Oh damn, that’s really her!” one of the men shout, channeling all of us), and the song became a duet.
All possibility of murder had been forgotten. Only space remained. Only pants.