"New name?" Troperiffic recruitment officer Beleaguered Bureaucrat asked.

"Put me down as Disco Dan, boss man." The lanky young man responded, grinning broadly over his rose-tinted glasses and kicking back in his chair.

"Riiight..." A check went down on the registration form. "Well, the team will need your speed in the upcoming Crown of Sand qualifiers. We'll be issuing you your armor and then-"

"No need, boss man." Disco Dan gestured broadly at his brilliant orange bell bottom pants and mostly-unbuttoned shirt. "These threads have done right by me for years."

Beleaguered Bureaucrat put down the registration sheet, looking askance at Disco Dan. "You are aware that disco is dead, right?"

"Disco can never die, baby!" Disco Dan crowed, jumping to his feet and striking a pose.

"Right." Beleaguered Bureaucrat sighed, checking the "Probable Injury Risk" box on the registration form. "Only the players who listen to it..."