Lions and Tigers and...Well, that's Enough, Really.

There are some evenings when I'm home and it's freezing outside and all I want to do is be entertained without effort. On those evenings I turn to my television, and when its myriad channels disappoint me, I often think about disconnecting the whole thing and subsisting solely on my dvd sets of the The Wire and Chappelle's Show. But I don't, and next thing I know I'm sucked into Top Chef, or Real Chance at Love, or Rock of Love Charm School, and the night dissolves into a weird shame spiral that usually involves a lot of red wine.

Then there are other nights where my HBO subscription pays for itself, and all it's under-performing sibling movie channels, in one glorious swoop. Last night was one of those nights. Last night, I found 'Cat Dancers' .

"Ron Holiday, Joy Holiday and Chuck Lizza, aka the Cat Dancers, were one of the world's first exotic-tiger entertainment acts. For years, the trio shared a happy, if unorthodox, life as performers and lovers - until a pair of bizarre deaths brought their story to a tragic end. Premieres Monday, December 15 at 8pm.

I don't want to ruin it for you, because YOU HAVE TO WATCH IT - for Ron Holiday's performance outfits alone. There's one scene where I swear to God, he has constructed suspenders out of black index cards individually taped to his chest. There is so, so much spandex, and his mullets get progressively more glorious throughout the flashback footage - made all the more incredible by the present-day interviews in which he is completely bald, and expresses his personality via elaborate wigs. Seriously, in the first five minutes, dude looks so much like Buffalo Bill, I honestly didn't know where the story was taking us. I didn't even know if 'tiger' was going to be the cause of death.

See, Ron Holiday and his wife, Joy - who, when choosing between devoting her life to the dance or to the Lord, was told by a nun to 'dance for God' - had a dance act. They danced everywhere. Ron was a lead male nude dancer at the Folies Bergere (an episode to which they devoted like, ONE SENTENCE, to my great dismay) and they did odd sexual ballets at Radio City, and everything was sparkly and amazing.

One night Ron (I assume) overdosed on quaaludes and had a dream where Joy was dancing with a cat. So they just like, got a leopard. And trained it to dance with them. Then they got a whole bunch more cats, and travelled in a circus, and stole a man-boy named Chuck from a competing circus, and trained him to dance with the cats, and then he started wearing satin booty-pants and shirts made out of deconstructed party favors from an event at Studio 54, and it's just insane. Right? This was fucking riveting. And this is all BEFORE Ron tells us about his first sexual encounter with Chuck. Ron and chuck got down! Then Joy started banging Chuck, too. THEN EVERYONE WAS SLEEPING WITH EVERYONE AND DANCING WITH BIG CATS. The best part was how hard these three loonies dug the shit out of their lifestyle. I mean, this was so, so crazy, but watching them all be like "This rules. We just have sex with each other and feed our enormous jungle cats huge portions of raw meat. We're so happy."...it was really convincing. I mean, not like they were hurting anyone. OH WAIT.

Because then they ate a bad batch of mushrooms, and decided to get a white tiger, which I guess was questionable not so much in that they were adopting another thousand pound wild feline to live in a cage out back, but in that white tigers are often inbred, and therefore unpredictable. But they get one anyway, because these people are completely insane. So they get this tiger, and they name him Jupiter, and he's clearly an asshole, but rather than you know - getting rid of their UNSTABLE TIGER they decide he's just 'a brat.' Because tigers are completely analogous to toddlers, and they grow out of these bratty phases. OH WAIT.

Here's the part where I totally spoil this for you: spolier alert? Is that what I'm supposed to say? We already know this doesn't end well.

One day there's a crew of electricians fortifying the fence at Rancho Insano, and rather than leaving all the tigers in their cages until they're finished working, the Cat Dancers put their full grown wild animals on leashes and walk them around. And Chuck, while walking Jupiter, slips and falls - apparently because he has moccasins on - and the tiger BITES THROUGH HIS FUCKING NECK. And then I guess it cried. So Ron blamed the moccasins, and kept their MAN EATING TIGER in their backyard.

Except all is not well, as Joy becomes consumed with grief, and spends the next month in her bed without food, or, apparently, a shower. Which is sort of understandable, I guess, considering her child-lover was just de-throated by a giant cat that's still living in the backyard. I'd probably freak out, too. I'd probably shower a few times, but these people are working on a different scale of reasonableness, so I'm just going to move on.

After about five weeks of stewing in her own filth and hunger pangs, Ron convinces Joy to go out and like, pat the cats, or something. So they go into the garage, and Joy like, rubs her hands with meat and makes out with their ocelot, or whatever, and everything's going well, and then Ron decides to bring Jupiter into the garage. Like REALLY, Ron? Jupiter? Now? But apparently he loves traumatic shock therapy, so in comes the white tiger. Who, upon seeing Joy, LEAPS ACROSS THE GARAGE AND TEARS HER THROAT OUT. And then I guess it made it's 'crying noise' again, and Ron - putting all the pieces together at last - shouts: "Jupiter - YOU'RE INBRED!!!" No, Ron - JUPITER IS A FUCKING TIGER. IF THERE WAS A TIGER IN MY GARAGE, AND THE TIGER DID NOT EAT ME, MY RESPONSE WOULD BE 'WHAT IS THIS TIGER, INBRED?' HOLY FUCK.

Right. Exactly. It's the most fucked up shit ever. I scratched the surface, too - there's so much more. For instance, we learn that since the tiger mauled his family, Ron now teaches ballet to children - creepy, especially considering the wigs - and also posits himself as an 'animal behaviorist' and gives tours of the exotic ranch his big cats now live on. That's like calling yourself a criminologist because you invited some wacko drifter to come stay in your house and he murdered your whole family. I don't want animal behavior advice from this guy - HIS TIGER ATE HIS WIFE. YES HE STILL HAS TIGERS.

I could talk about this shit all day. Please do yourself a favor and do whatever you need to do to see this film. You may have bizarre dreams about leopards and leotards for the next few nights, but it is so, so worth it. SO yes - thank you, HBO. You truly are more than just TV.