The red chairs of The Voice have spun for legends, underdogs, and everything in between, but on the second night of Season 28’s Blind Auditions—September 23—they twirled into uncharted territory: a whirlwind of Irish footwork and strategic sabotage. In a segment that’s already racked up 20 million views across platforms, Niall Horan leaped from his seat to unleash a 15-second burst of traditional Irish dancing, all in a desperate bid to woo a four-chair-turn sensation. At the same instant, Reba McEntire deployed her coveted first Block of the season, slamming the door on Michael Bublé’s advances and turning a simple audition into a full-blown coaching cage match. The contestant at the center? 22-year-old soul-pop belter Elara Voss, whose haunting cover of Hozier’s “Take Me to Church” left the panel spellbound—and Horan shuffling like Riverdance on steroids. As clips flood TikTok and X, fans are hailing it as “the most chaotic four-chair turn ever,” a moment that blends hilarity, heart, and high-stakes drama in the show’s signature style.

Season 28, which bowed with a bang on September 22 amid a revamped format featuring the Carson Callback and artist-led Battles, has wasted no time living up to its promise of “unpredictable energy.” With returning coaches Horan, McEntire, Snoop Dogg, and two-time champ Michael Bublé at the helm, the premiere nights delivered three four-chair turns, a slew of golden buzzers, and enough playful shade to fill a confessional reel. But Voss’s audition, airing midway through Tuesday’s two-hour extravaganza, elevated the chaos to operatic heights. Hailing from a tiny coastal town in Oregon—where she busked on rainy boardwalks and honed her chops in open-mic dives—Voss stepped onstage with a ukulele slung over her shoulder, her voice a velvet foghorn that cut through the Dolby Theatre like a siren’s call. From the opening verse, her interpretation transformed Hozier’s brooding anthem into a gospel-tinged confessional, her falsetto soaring on “Amen” like a prayer unanswered.

Snoop Dogg spun first, his chair whipping around at the pre-chorus with a booming “Oh, child—that’s some holy fire right there!” McEntire followed suit seconds later, her eyes widening as Voss layered harmonies that evoked her own “Fancy” era with a modern twist. Bublé hit his button mid-bridge, leaning forward with that crooner intensity: “Elara, you’re a storyteller with pipes that could fill the Met. I see you headlining Vegas by finals.” Horan, the 32-year-old Irish heartthrob and former One Direction frontman, held out longest—his chair frozen as if debating the merits of sin versus salvation—but cracked at the final “Hallelujah,” turning with a gasp that drew laughs from the crowd. “Bloody hell, that was mesmerizing,” he exclaimed, his Mullingar accent thickening with excitement. “You’ve got the soul of an old blues queen in a pop star’s body. Come to Team Niall—we’ll make magic that’ll have Ireland green with envy.”

What unfolded next was pure Voice alchemy: a pitch battle laced with absurdity and affection. As the coaches rose for their pleas—Snoop promising “West Coast vibes and weed wisdom,” McEntire offering “country soul lessons from the queen herself,” Bublé dangling “jazz duets that’ll break the internet”—Horan escalated the stakes with unbridled showmanship. “Look, Elara, I’m not just a coach; I’m your ticket to the emerald isle of artistry,” he declared, his eyes twinkling. Then, without warning, he kicked off his loafers, hiked up his trousers, and launched into an impromptu Irish jig right there on the stage floor. For a glorious 15 seconds, Horan stomped and shuffled—arms rigid, heels clicking in rapid-fire rhythm, knees snapping like castanets—in a nod to his County Westmeath roots. The crowd lost it, erupting in cheers as confetti from a nearby golden buzzer machine (leftover from the previous act) rained down like lucky shamrocks. Snoop howled, “What in the leprechaun is this?!” while McEntire clapped along, her laughter bubbling like champagne. Bublé, ever the ham, joined in with a mock waltz, twirling an imaginary partner.

But amid the merriment, strategy simmered. As Horan winded down his dance—flushed and grinning, sweat beading on his brow—McEntire’s eyes narrowed on Bublé, who was mid-pitch about “unleashing your inner diva with me.” Sensing the crooner’s momentum, Reba slammed her Block button with theatrical flair, the screen flashing “BLOCKED: Michael Bublé” in bold red letters. Gasps rippled through the theater; Bublé clutched his chest in mock agony, collapsing dramatically into his chair. “Reba! My first Block of the season, and you use it on me? That’s cold, darlin’—colder than a Canadian winter!” he protested, his Vancouver lilt dripping with feigned betrayal. McEntire, unfazed, shot back with a wink: “Michael, honey, you’re too smooth for your own good. Elara needs a coach who’ll fight dirty, not charm her socks off. And Niall? Bless your heart for the jig, but this girl’s got country in her veins.” Snoop, chuckling, added fuel: “Y’all wild—Elara, pick the one who didn’t just embarrass himself on global TV.”

Voss, wide-eyed and giggling, stood frozen amid the frenzy, her ukulele dangling like a talisman. The 22-year-old barista—whose day job funds her indie EP dreams and whose viral busking videos (one Hozier cover hit 500K TikTok views last year)—had prepped for pressure, but nothing matched this. “I came here to sing, not witness a cultural festival,” she quipped, earning whoops from the audience. Her backstory added poignant layers: Raised by a single mom in a trailer park overlooking the Pacific, Voss discovered her voice harmonizing hymns in a local church choir, blending gospel grit with folk whimsy. A near-miss car accident at 18—totaling her beat-up Honda while blasting Hozier‘s self-titled album—ignited her resolve: “That crash was my wake-up. Music’s my church now.” Post-performance, she confessed to Daly: “Seeing all four turn? Dream fuel. But Niall’s dance? That’s meme immortality.”

The pitches peaked in hilarity and heart. Horan, catching his breath, doubled down: “Elara, that jig? It’s what I’ll do every Battle if you join me—keep things lively, keep you laughing through the nerves. I’ve won twice because I build families, not factories. We’ll craft songs that echo your Oregon waves.” McEntire countered with maternal warmth: “Darlin’, your tone’s got that lonesome highway pull—pure Reba red-dirt magic. I’ll teach you to command a stage like Dolly, with heart like Patsy.” Snoop pitched urban edge: “Girl, you got that spiritual flow—let’s remix it with some Cali sunshine.” Bublé, recovered from his “block-induced faint,” lamented: “Reba robbed me, but if you sneak onto Team Michael anyway… wait, no, that’s not how it works. Pick me for the vocal runs that’ll make angels weep.” Voss, after a beat that stretched like taffy, pointed to Horan: “Niall, your energy’s infectious—that dance sealed it. Team Niall it is!”

The choice sent the theater into orbit; Horan whooped, pulling Voss into a jig-assisted hug as pyrotechnics popped overhead. McEntire feigned a swoon, while Bublé tossed a playful “Traitor!” her way. Snoop, gracious in defeat, lit a victory blunt (metaphorical, per network rules) with a nod: “Smart pick—Irish luck’s undefeated this season.” Offstage, the camaraderie lingered: Horan FaceTimed his mum in Ireland for a post-win squeal, while Voss texted her mom a clip of the dance, captioning it “My new coach is a leprechaun.”

Fan fallout has been seismic. By Wednesday morning, #NiallIrishJig trended worldwide, with 1.8 million X posts and TikTok duets recreating the shuffle (one by a Dublin dance troupe hit 3 million views). “Horan just turned coaching into choreography—iconic!” tweeted @VoiceViralMoments, her thread dissecting the footwork garnering 150K likes. Reddit’s r/TheVoice subreddit ballooned with memes: Photoshopped Horans jigs over leprechaun GIFs, captioned “When your pitch needs pipes and steps.” Reba’s Block drew equal ink; #RebaBlocksBuble sparked debates on strategy—”Queen move, saving her country soul from jazz jail,” versus “Harsh—Bublé’s undefeated streak starts with Ls now?” Early polls on Talent Recap peg Voss as a Top 8 lock, with 62% favoring Team Niall for the win.

For Horan, the moment cements his evolution from boy-band alum to coaching savant. Undefeated in Seasons 23 and 24—guiding Huntley to victory with raw rock edge and Bryson to soul-pop glory—he returned after a tour hiatus (his 2025 Heartbeat trek grossed $50 million) hungrier than ever. “I missed the madness—the turns, the blocks, the pure joy,” he told Billboard pre-premiere. His jig? A callback to his 2023 backstage “Rattlin’ Bog” serenade that had Blake Shelton jigging along, now weaponized for Voss. “It’s in the blood—Westmeath weddings, family ceilis. If it wins hearts, I’ll dance till dawn.” McEntire, no stranger to Blocks (she deployed three last season), laughed it off in a post-episode IG: “Niall’s steps were cute, but my Block? Chess, not checkers.”

As Battles brew (October 14 kickoff), Voss’s snag bolsters Team Niall’s eclectic edge: Her alongside premiere steals like folk-rocker Tate McRae and teen phenom Lila Voss (no relation). Bublé, licking wounds, quipped to Daly: “Reba owes me a steak dinner—and a dance lesson.” In a season of twists, Horan’s jig and Reba’s jab remind us: The Voice thrives on surprise, from shamrock shuffles to strategic shutdowns. With Voss’s “church” now Horan’s choir, Season 28’s sermon? Talent turns heads—but heart (and heels) seals the deal.