'All I want to talk about is Robert Irwin on Dancing with the Stars.'

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There was a lot of chit-chat in the office this morning. 

Apparently, the finale of some show called The Summer I Turned Pretty aired and everyone was debriefing. Belly chose… I want to say… Conrad? Cameron? Chris? Whatever. 

I couldn't focus, and I didn't really care, because all I wanted to talk about was Robert Irwin. 

Yep, that Robert Irwin. The khaki-clad son of Australia's most chaotic national treasure, the late Crocodile Hunter, Steve. Except this week, Robert wasn't holding a python or gently cradling a crocodile egg. No. He was gyrating. On the US version of Dancing With the Stars. 

And, dear reader, he was giving. 

Watch the Robert Irwin jive performance that has everyone talking. Post continues after video.

At just 21, Robert Irwin is competing on season 34 (yes, thirty-four) of the show. A show that, until about five minutes ago, was deeply nan-coded. The audience was mostly retired women with a crisp glass of savvy b. And the cast was made up of people you forgot even existed. Think: that obscure boy band member who was relegated to the background of the dance breaks.  Or the guy who once played "Cop Number 2" on NCIS: Hawai'i.

But then Robert waltzed (or rather, jived) in with the force of a cassowary after downing an energy drink. 

From the very first eight-count of Robert's performance, he had the face of a man possessed by pizzazz and the commitment of someone who's never once been told that he needs to "tone it down". 

His arms were giving deranged emu at a petting zoo plotting a great escape. His legs were spelling out "this is Australia Zoo after dark". The pointed toes were sharper than a magpie's beak in swooping season. And the facial expressions had the exact same energy as a kookaburra laughing at you while you're crying in your car. 

The performance. The pizzazz. Image: ABC.

At one point, he made eye contact with the camera that was so intense I felt like I was being stalked by a saltwater crocodile. And yes, I immediately pressed "replay" because I am, it seems, a feral possum who cannot look away from danger. 

TikTok, it appears, agrees with me.

Edits of Mini Irwin's moves have crossed the For You page border patrol into international thirst territory. Comments like, "unexpected eat" and "I am obsessed with this man" are everywhere. He's three seconds off being crowned "Zaddy Dundee" (in fact, I'm bestowing that title upon him myself right now. Congrats.). 

@pepperonipinto

challenge: count how many times we say good (level impossible) #robertirwin #DWTS #dancingwiththestars #thatwassogood

♬ Club Penguin Pizza Parlor - Cozy Penguin

Which begs the question: why doesn't Australian DWTS hit the same? It's not shade, it's just… the vibe. Our version leans nostalgic, familiar. We get soap stars, ex-athletes and the occasional reality TV alum trying their best to cha-cha their way through an existential crisis.

But America? They are getting Robert Irwin being sexually rebranded in real time. They've somehow taken ballroom, glitter and a wholesome Aussie wildlife warrior and turned it into a global thirst trap.

With one single performance, Robert Irwin has recruited a whole new generation of DWTS viewers. Until this week, Gen Z thought it was just something their mum had on in the background while scrolling Facebook Marketplace and now they are suddenly… invested. And absolutely feral for this young Aussie.

We are witnessing, my friends, the TikTok-ification of ballroom dance. 

And while Robert is doing the heaviest lifting since Hercules himself, the rest of the cast of this season is also kind of iconic.

Dylan Efron, aka a man who looks like he was genetically engineered in a lab? Swoon. A Secret Lives of Mormon Wives star? Inject that drama directly into my veins, please and thanks. There's also an Olympic gymnast — who can no doubt make a backflip work during a Viennese Waltz— and the internet's favourite chaos agent herself, Alix Earle. 

But Robert is the one making headlines.

Me, watching 1000 Robert Irwin TikTok edits. Image: ABC.

He's not just any celebrity offspring; he's a second-generation wildlife warrior. He grew up bottle-feeding joeys and getting dragged on late-night TV couches casually balancing a funnel-web on his arm. His whole brand, up until very recently, has been "wholesome animal boy". 

His dad may have won over the world by wrestling crocs, but Robert is making America (and the internet) absolutely wild for a boy with jazz hands. And I bet Steve Irwin is looking down from heaven, khakis on, whispering, "Crikey mate, that's showmanship."

Listen: Tina Burke and Ksenija Lukich discuss how two famous sisters somehow escaped the child-star curse on The Spill podcast.

We are now on a very slippery slope where Dancing With the Stars is suddenly appointment television again. The thirst is real, the memes are strong and if Robert doesn't at least make it into the semi-finals, me and a few thousand other deeply unwell people will storm the network's headquarters (fake tanned to the hilt and wearing sequins, of course) to demand justice for this jive.

Until then? I'll be on my couch, watching the TikTok edits and analysing his every eyebrow wiggle. Screaming into the void about how Australian TV failed us, and America once again took one of our own and made him truly sparkle.

So yes, congratulations to Belly and Cameron/Conrad/whoever. But the only television that matters to me right now? Robert Irwin, on Dancing With The Stars Season 34. Because all I have to say is "crikey". And also, call me. And also, if Robert Irwin in sequins doesn't usher in world peace, then honestly, nothing will.

Feature image: ABC.