Click and Clack A night out with the Tap Girls by Ashley Fantz lizabeth Berkley, eat your heart out. The star of Showgirls would likely fume with jealousy over the Tap Girls -- the latest act to sashay across the Riverstage at the Sheraton Casino in Tunica, Mississippi. Since their debut June 1st, the troupe has shimmied, jiggled, and tapped furiously for each of their free nightly 45-minute extravaganzas. Introducing themselves by lip-synching "42nd Street," the Tap Girls assert themselves as both feisty sex kittens clad in cut-out Lycra and rhinestones and -- this is the surprising kicker -- serious tap dancers. It is this not-so-subtle mix of traditional songs (such as "Sing, Sing, Sing"), kitschy pageant-like singing solos, and street-flavored, but stiff, movement that define the Tap Girls. For anyone curious to know what JonBenet Ramsey would have looked like all grown up, meet Stacy Latham, singer, dancer, and Tap Girls emcee. Squeezed into a dripping gold-beaded gown, Latham flashes a Pearl Drops smile and tosses her white-blonde hair over her shoulder. In a sassy y'all drawl, she tells the audience that the Tap Girls have "one dream in common." Can you guess what that is? They were born to dance, dance, dance! With that, a screen is lowered on stage, Robert Palmer's "Simply Irresistible" erupts from the speakers, and the audience is shown old home movies of the dancers when they were just wee toe-tapping kids. The film is spliced with Tap Girls performance footage so you can see Jennifer at 7 years old gushing in a tutu and Jennifer at 25 rolling on her back seductively in the aforementioned Lycra. From bashfulness to boobage. Tap Girls manager and L.A.-based producer Anita Mann conceived the video idea to show how far the Tap Girls have come. The Tap Girls are undeniably talented. Their arabesques are in perfect symmetry, their feet never sickle, and their turns are clean despite a slick floor. They use one-taps rather than cheat with jingle-taps -- a looser steel plate which cloggers often use to create extra sound. Tap Girls don't just shuffle-step and wait for applause. Their numbers include some intricate choreography. They manage pull-backs wearing hightop tennis shoes and double wings as mere improv. However, the stage is blocked off by a thin wall so that the Tap Girls unfortunately compete against the distant chatter of slot machines. As choreographer, Mann isn't above borrowing from the Great White Way. Employing the Tap Girls' flair for jazz, the dancers slither Bob Fosse-style in red sequined shift dresses and grope Cabaret chairs while Latham sings "Fever," fittingly low and dirty. Several jazz solos, each technically smooth and deviating from rote choreography, give the women a chance to establish their own style. Mann has also borrowed some urban funk-tap elements from Savion Glover, creator of Bring on da Noise Bring on da Funk. The dancers are encouraged to speak and shout randomly in appreciation for each other's impressive steps. Blatantly copying STOMP, the performers beat on plastic buckets in an uncomplicated rhythm, oohing and aahing at each other's tricks. The set is, in fact, an imitation of STOMP's set, complete with chain-link fencing and alleyway junk. Admirably, the Tap Girls bastardize the Lord of the Dance type of Irish folk dancing that's fast becoming a dance-recital cliché across the country. Michael Flatley would turn green as Irish Spring if he saw this performance delivered with the Tap Girls' trademark cheerleader enthusiasm. Oddly, following the tribute to Ireland, the dancers yell, "Yo! One time, two times, three times," and break into a rap interlude. It's literally a case of something for everyone. One suspects Elizabeth Berkley would approve.