Watch NY's subway 'strippers'

• Teens perform gravity-defying dance moves on New York's subway


• Talented buskers earn hundreds of dollars from high-energy shows


• Make name for themselves off trains, appearing in music clips, docos


• Mixed reactions from public, from heartfelt applause to fears over danger

Editor's note: Art of Movement is CNN's monthly show exploring the latest innovations in art, culture, science and technology.

(CNN) -- Andrew "Goofy" Saunders is like no stripper you've ever seen before.

For one, he's built like a wrestler with a rainbow afro that "Krusty the Clown" could only dream of. For two, his stage is a hurtling train. And for three -- this is the clincher -- the only item of clothing he's likely to shed is his baseball cap.

But boy, does this 20-year-old from the Bronx know how to dance around a pole.

"We tell people we're part time strippers," he says over the phone, the sound of cars blaring in the background of his native New York.

"It's just a little joke, it gets people to laugh."

"We call it Lite Feet"

Saunders is the founder of WAFFLE (We are Family for Life Entertainment), a group of 15 dancers whose gravity-defying pole pirouettes -- accompanied by thumping beatbox tunes -- have earned them quite a reputation on the city's subway.

Andrew "Goofy" Saunders struts his stuff on New York's subway.

Every week the young men -- aged between 17 and 21 -- perform their special brand of breakdancing turned ballet on the underground trains; delighting, bemusing, and sometimes infuriating commuters.

The urban acrobats swing from handrails or backflip down aisles, with the ease and bravado of youngsters who grew up using the city as a giant dance floor.

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"Chicken Noodle Soup," "Needle and Thread," "Walking on Air" -- these are the names of some of WAFFLE's signature moves, performed with a cheeky swagger to their own mish-mash recordings of hip hop, funk, and electro beats.

"The way we move -- our energy, our shoe tricks, our hat tricks -- is something that's completely new," said Saunders.

"We call it 'Lite Feet' -- it's a mixture of dances put together," he added. "There's this dance, the 'Charleston' (made popular in the 1920s), and that's one of the closest things we've been able to find to it."

"Everyone has an opinion"

"It's showtime!" has become something of a rallying cry for the buskers, who usually split into smaller groups of three, targeting the busiest carriages to earn up to $100 a day.

The crew use a mixture of breakdancing, 1920s swing, and even pole dancing.

Watch one of the many YouTube clips of the dancers expertly twirling their caps on a perfectly poised elbow or nonchalantly "Moonwalking" along a trundling train, and the reactions are as varied as New Yorkers themselves -- grandmothers cheer, hipsters appear bored, and tourists scramble for their phones.

"There are a lot of copycats out there now," says Saunders, who first started busking seven years ago.

Our energy, our shoes, our hat tricks, is something that's completely new

Andrew "Goofy" Saunders

"Everyone has an opinion. But this is how we make a living, so we don't have to ask our parents for money or have a boring job. We're just trying to do something positive."

Not everyone sees their shows in the same light, with a New York Times article on the troupe attracting some unfavorable comments.

"They definitely have some impressive moves. They are also extremely annoying, and more importantly—dangerous," wrote Josh F.

Has Saunders ever hurt anyone during his act?

"No. Just a little graze, but I've never really hit anyone," he said. "People don't know I've been doing it for years. I know what I'm doing."

Love them or loathe them, there's no denying the troupe's talents.

From Bronx to big time?

It was as young teens growing up in low income households in Harlem, Brooklyn and the Bronx, that Saunders and his fancy-footed friends first came up with the idea of busking as a way to raise money to attend local dance competitions -- or "battles."

"You had to pay $10 to get in, so asking your mom every week got annoying. Or they probably won't have the money to give to you right away."

I want to bring Lite Feet to the world

Andrew Saunders

"We had an idea to go on the train and make the money ourselves. And the money was good -- we made over the amount we needed. So we just kept on going."

The troupe has since appeared in various video clips and mini documentaries, with member "Kid the Wiz" even taking his deft hat tricks and comedic style across the country on "America's Got Talent."

"My main goal is to get off the train and work with more people," said Saunders.

"I want to bring Lite Feet to the world."

Craigslist suspect: I've killed dozens

• NEW: Experts question serial-killing claims


• NEW: Without details, "We don't even know where to start," searcher says


• Miranda Barbour told reporter that she had killed more than 22 people across four states


• Barbour and her husband are charged in a November 2013 killing

(CNN) -- Reporter Francis Scarcella walked into the Northumberland County Prison in Sunbury, Pennsylvania, with plenty of questions for the woman accused along with her husband of luring a man with a Craigslist ad, then killing him.

He walked out with a bombshell of a story that's sent police and the press alike scrambling for answers.

Miranda Barbour told Scarcella, a reporter for the Daily Item newspaper in Sunbury, that she'd killed before. And not just once or twice.

"She said, she has, you know, done this before," Scarcella told CNN affiliate WNEP of his Friday interview with the 19-year-old murder suspect. "And I said, 'What's the actual number?'"

Suspect: I've killed at least 22 men

Prof.: I don't buy 'serial killer' story

"And she said, 'Under a hundred,'" Scarcella told the station. Barbour said she had stopped counting at 22 killings, according to Scarcella's story in the Daily Item.

"She kind of floored me," Scarcella told CNN affiliate WBRE.

Barbour told the Daily Item that the killings occurred over the past six years in Alaska, Texas, North Carolina and California. That's sent investigators in those states back to their cold-case files, but it's also raising questions among people who study serial killers.

"Anything is possible, and of course it's conceivable that she's a serial killer," Northeastern University criminologist Jack Levin told CNN. But he said few women are serial killers, and those few are typically older and don't use knives, as Barbour is accused of doing in the Pennsylvania case.

Authorities haven't yet corroborated any of Barbour's claims, including statements that she was involved in Satanism. Her alleged confession has raised questions among attorneys, missing persons experts and even a representative of the Church of Satan, the nation's largest satanic body.

"Thorough investigation will likely demonstrate that this cult story is fiction," said Peter Gilmore, the New York-based head of the Church of Satan.

In Alaska, state police are looking into the claims and will pursue "any leads that may present themselves," Department of Public Safety spokeswoman Megan Peters told CNN. And Monica Caison, the founder of a missing persons center in North Carolina, said her phone started ringing Sunday night with questions from families whose loved ones haven't turned up in years.

"It sends everybody into a panic mode -- a hopeful panic mode," Caison said. "They want to be one of those, but they don't want to be one of those. They want their nightmare to end."

2013 killing

In the one case in which authorities say they have pinned down Barbour's involvement, she and her husband, Elytte Barbour, 22, are accused of killing 42-year-old Troy LaFerrara, who police say responded to a "companionship" ad placed by Miranda Barbour on Craigslist.

The couple just wanted to kill someone together, police said. They had been married for only three weeks at the time of the slaying, and had moved from North Carolina to Pennsylvania after tying the knot.

Police say Elytte Barbour strangled LaFerrara in the front seat of her red Honda CR-V while Miranda Barbour stabbed him at least 20 times in November 2013. LaFerrara's body was found the next day in the backyard of a home in Sunbury, a small city about 100 miles northwest of Philadelphia. The last number dialed on his cell phone led police to the Barbours, according to authorities.

Barbour claimed she began killing when she was 13 and involved in a satanic cult, Scarcella reported.

"I can pinpoint on a map where you can find them," he quoted her as saying of the bodies. But she said LaFerrara's killing was the Barbours' first as a couple.

Elytte Barbour told police at the time of his arrest that he and his wife had tried to kill others, but the plans didn't work out.

Both Barbours face several charges in LaFerrara's death, including murder. Despite Miranda Barbour's statements to Scarcella, both have pleaded not guilty.

Barbour's attorney, public defender Edward Greco, told CNN he didn't know she was planning to give the interview. He declined to comment on her claims.

But Levin said the way LaFerra's body was left in someone's yard isn't typical of serial killers.

"If you're a prolific serial killer, you're going to go out of your way to dump the body in a desolate area off a highway so that people don't find the evidence," he said.

Claims raise doubts

Sunbury Police Chief Steve Mazzeo told CNN that investigators have been in contact with the FBI and law enforcement in some of the states where Barbour has lived. The father of Barbour's 1-year-old child is dead, and Sunbury police have said that is part of their investigation.

"We investigate all leads just because that's the proper protocol to follow through," Mazzeo said.

Authorities also are looking closely at Barbour's claims that she was involved in Satanism, according to another law enforcement source close to the investigation. But Gilmore, of the Church of Satan, said his church has a "law and order philosophy" that does not condone killing. He said the church has had no contact with Miranda Barbour or her husband.

Caison, the founder of the Wilmington-based Community United Effort Center for Missing Persons, has worked with murderers before in hopes of bringing closure to people whose loved ones haven't been seen in years. In 2009, her organization helped find the body of Alice Donovan, who was abducted and murdered seven years earlier, after Donovan's convicted killer wrote to tell Caison where the remains could be found.

"Anytime anything like this happens, we start getting e-mails and phone calls. I started getting texts last night," Caison said. But she said Barbour will have to be questioned extensively by investigators before those claims can be put to the test.

"You can't just say you've killed 22 people between this region and that region," Caison said. "You've got to give a town or something that only police or an organization like us would know." Without details like the gender, age or race of a victim, "We don't even know where to start," she said.

And like Levin, she cast doubt on Barbour's claims.

"That's a lot of people to kill in such a short time, and being so young and never making a mistake, I'm hard pressed to believe that amount," she said. And for the families she works with, "You don't want to build any false hope."

Getting the interview

Scarcella told WNEP he got the interview after Barbour sent him a letter saying she wanted to talk.

Scarcella told CNN on Sunday that he was not allowed to bring a notepad or any other recording device into the interview. He said police allowed him to listen to the interview after it was conducted.

In his interview with WNEP, Scarcella described Barbour as "very meek, very mild" with a "very low voice."

"She never hesitated once," he told the station. "She never gave the impression of it was a rehearsal."

Scarcella said he eventually asked if she had any remorse.

"And she said, 'None,'" Scarcella told WNEP.

But that's not what Scarcella said he found most surprising.

That would be, he said, "the fact that she said that if she got out she would do it again."

CNN's Daniel Burke, Haley Draznin, Susan Candiotti and Chris Welch contributed to this report.

Rowling's 'Cuckoo's' sequel announced

J.K. Rowling reads passages from her book,'The Tales of Beedle the Bard,' at the National Library in Edinburgh in 2008.

• J.K. Rowling is writing a sequel to "The Cuckoo's Calling" called "The Silkworm"


• She'll again write under the pseudonym Robert Galbraith


• The book will debut in the U.K. on June 19 and June 24 in the U.S.

(EW.com) -- Now that we all know that Robert Galbraith is J.K. Rowling's pseudonym, there's no way the sequel to last year's surprise best-seller "The Cuckoo's Calling" will spend any time in obscurity.

"The Silkworm" will debut in the U.K. on June 19 and in the U.S. on June 24. Here's the official plot description from Mulholland Books:

J.K. Rowling admits Hermione didn't really belong with Ron

"When novelist Owen Quine goes missing, his wife calls in private detective Cormoran Strike. At first, Mrs. Quine just thinks her husband has gone off by himself for a few days—as he has done before—and she wants Strike to find him and bring him home.

But as Strike investigates, it becomes clear that there is more to Quine's disappearance than his wife realizes. The novelist has just completed a manuscript featuring poisonous pen-portraits of almost everyone he knows. If the novel were to be published, it would ruin lives—meaning that there are a lot of people who might want him silenced.

J.K. Rowling talks single parenthood

When Quine is found brutally murdered under bizarre circumstances, it becomes a race against time to understand the motivation of a ruthless killer, a killer unlike any Strike has encountered before ..."

Are you excited for the big sequel?

See the original story at EW.com.

CLICK HERE to Try 2 RISK FREE issues of Entertainment Weekly

© 2011 Entertainment Weekly and Time Inc. All rights reserved.

What they didn't want you to see

A stern looking North Korean guard by the Chinese border customs office. This image was deleted by North Korean officials.

Writer Johan Nylander and his guide, Ko Chang Ho, watch as a North Korean guard deletes 90 photos deemed unacceptable. Nylander was able to recover the photos with the help of an IT specialist -- the images that follow are an edited selection.

This propaganda monument of "Dear Leader" Kim Jong-Il by a countryside road, not far from the border to China, was deleted by authorities. North Korea required images of leaders be full body shots.

People standing by the train track, while a guard is monitoring the bike race.

In the city of Rason, people are leaning out of windows to get a glimpse of the Western cyclists.

A woman and a man walking by the side of the road lined with cornfields.

Villagers waving by the race path.

Guards and custom officials by the border to China.

By the border checkpoint next to the Tumen River, North Korean customs officials can play volleyball. Officials prohibited any photos of North Korean military bases.

Peasants and villagers standing by the road to look at the Western cyclists

Guard keeping an eye on the bikers next to a small village.

Kids playing outside village houses.

Spectators waiting for the bikers to reach the finish line. In the background the "Great" and "Dear Leaders" Kim Il Sung and his son, Kim Jong-Il.

Huge crowds -- some of whom standing on their own bikes -- as they await cyclists by the race finish line in Rason.

Custom official and tourist bureau guide checking foreigners' passports.

Guides from the local tourist bureau handing out water bottles to bikers, monitored by a guard in the background.

Journalist Johan Nylander and his North Korean guide, Ko Chang Ho. EDITOR'S NOTE: This image was not among those deleted by North Korean officials.

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• Journalist Johan Nylander covered an international bike race from China into North Korea


• Promised full access while in North Korea, guards later deleted 90 of his photos


• Nylander recovered the photos deemed offensive by government minders


• Deleted photos often showed North Korean security guards, peasants in the countryside

Editor's note: Swedish journalist Johan Nylander was invited as the only Western journalist to cover an international bike race from China into North Korea in September. Here he details his travails working with North Korean authorities.

Rason, North Korea (CNN) -- As the sole Western journalist covering a unique bicycle race in North Korea last month, I was provided with a personal guide, a car with a driver and the promise that I was free to take any photographs I wanted. As a journalist, it seemed like an incredible opportunity to document a small snapshot of what North Korea was really like.

However, the promise turned out not to be completely true.

At the border, before going back to China, a group of security guards confiscated my camera and erased all images they thought were inappropriate, or did not portray the country in a favorable light.

The North Korea I wasn't meant to see

But with the help of a computer expert in Hong Kong, I managed to get all the pictures back.

Officially, I only had two restrictions to obey during my trip: No photos of the military or military facilities and all shots of portraits of Kim Il Sung and his son Kim Jong-Il had to show their entire figures. And I was under no circumstances allowed to walk off alone.

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Rodman's hoop dreams for North Korea

My guide, Ko Chang Ho, was surprisingly friendly and talkative. Contrary to the propaganda machine I was expecting, the 42-year-old father of two talked at length about his days as an English student in Pyongyang and his interest in international literature. His favorite author was William Shakespeare; the last book he read was Sir Walter Scott's classic novel, "Ivanhoe."

We also talked about why the outside world has such a negative view of North Korea; something he was very sad about. He loved his country and I chose my words carefully.

Many times I asked Ho if it was okay to take photos of police, guards, power stations, refineries, train tracks and other objects I suspected would be considered sensitive by the secretive regime. "Go right ahead," he would say with a smile. Driving though the countryside, I asked the driver to stop by the small villages. "No problem," said my guide. "Just be polite to the peasants. They are not used to Westerners with big cameras."

Westerners race into North Korea -- by bike

By the finishing line of the cycle race in the city of Rason, I was running around trying to get good shots of the riders coming in as well as of spectators and the city itself. My guide had a hard time keeping up with me, but he never once told me to lower my camera or slow down.

It was all very informal. After the race, I had a chat with the vice mayor of the Rason Special Economic Zone, Hwang Chol Nam -- who to my surprise spoke fluent Swedish after studying in Europe.

And in the evening I sat down with a couple of young women from the local tourist office and had a conversation -- in Mandarin through an interpreter -- about relationships and everyday life in North Korea. They explained that although some North Korean marriages still were staged because of family ties to politics, almost all are today based on love. They said most of their friends and local teenagers are studying Mandarin to do business and network with the growing number of Chinese visiting the region.

The following day, I had my first clash with the authorities. After breakfast I decided to go for a walk alone. While the guides and the other officials were busy, I walked out the hotel to the parking lot by myself. I didn't manage to get more than 10 meters before a uniformed guard saw me and led me back to the hotel lobby and told my guide that I had wandered off.

The real setback happened just minutes before I was to cross the Tumen River and go back to China. At the border, a group of guards called me over and demanded to check my camera.

Despite my objections, one of the guards erased picture after picture. I tried to look over his shoulder to see what he was deleting, but he kept turning his back to me so I couldn't see. Every time he hit the delete button, I felt the frustration build. My guide said they were erasing "inappropriate" pictures, with no further explanation. In total, 90 images were erased from the memory card.

Behind the veil: A rare look at life in North Korea

I was annoyed but not surprised.

Back in Hong Kong I got in contact with a small IT company that specializes in data recovery. After leaving me waiting impatiently for 24 hours, they finally got back to me. All the photos had been saved.

"When they deleted the file on the card, they did not delete the whole file instantly, it just released the space of this file for future use -- the content is still there," Benjamin Wong, owner of Vector Data Recovery explained to me.

Looking at the censored photos, I was surprised about the selection. Some were of angry looking security guards with scruffy barracks in the background, others of government officials going through our passports. I could just about understand that. But others were in my eyes harmless, even scenic. There was an old couple walking alongside the cornfields, a family out in the countryside waving from their house, and a mother cycling with her sleeping baby on a seat on the back of her bike. One photo showed a volleyball pitch next to the customs building by the border crossing.

Why these images are not in line with North Korean image guidelines is for me a mystery. But so are a lot of things about the world's most isolated country.

The North Korea we rarely see