At GM Place on Saturday, September 10

How freakin' hot is Beyoncé Knowles? She's so hot that GM Place was swimming Saturday night with unlikely pop fans: thugged-out hip-hop dudes, middle-aged accountant-types, geeky record-store clerks, and drunken soccer dads (minus their kids), all oh-so-ready for that jelly. Beyoncé is so hot that every chick in the place arrived totally tarted-up-nails done, hair coiffed, face painted, cleavage on display-because if you're gonna be in the same vicinity as Ms. Knowles, you're sure as hell going to put in the extra effort. She is so damn hot, in fact, that Michelle Williams and Kelly Rowland could easily have been replaced by 50 Cent and The Game and nobody would have noticed.

So it came as no surprise that the majority of the male fans in the Garage spent the entire evening gazing obsessively at the giant television screens, leaving the dancing and screaming to the masses of teenaged girls in the house. And scream they did. From the moment that DC floated up on stage from lifts in the floor-clad in glitzy Las Vegas gowns and belting out "Say My Name"-the only thing that could be heard in the stands was thousands upon thousands of young lungs.

The multiplatinum-selling supergroup put on a thoroughly entertaining show, covering material from 1997 to the present and undergoing multiple dazzling set and costume changes. The show lost momentum a couple of times, though, when Williams and Rowland were naive enough to think they could hold the audience's attention without Beyoncé. Williams, in particular, performed a stunning gospel solo that was received with a combination of confused looks and restless fidgeting.

All was forgiven when Beyoncé re-emerged in a tiny white tank top and minuscule mesh skirt to perform "Baby Boy", accompanied by a procession of dancers who fawned over her with umbrellas. This was topped only by her charged rendition of "Crazy in Love", during which she performed the infamous Beyoncé Bounce in spike heels and short-shorts. (The sole disappointment being that Jay-Z failed to make good on his rumoured appearance.)

The undeniable highlight of the concert came partway through, when the bootylicious babes combed the floor for eligible bachelors, and pulled three guys up on stage. As the shell-shocked dudes sat staring, DC performed playful lap-dances and talked trash. "I've been watching you all night, and I think we have a connection," Rowland flirted. "It's OK, baby, you can touch me," Williams cooed. The dudes-whose ultimate wet dream had just come true in front of a stadium full of people-took cautious advantage and let their hands roam while the crowd hooted, hollered, and laughed hysterically.

As the night came to a close, and it dawned on performers and fans alike that this was the group's last show ever, tears spilled throughout the arena. Rowland got choked up. Beyoncé broke down during a solo. Fans wiped their eyes. The group launched into a spirited rendition of their anthem, "Survivor", which proved surprisingly moving.

But none of the syrupy emotion, however sincere, could overshadow the fact that for Williams and Rowland this will likely be the end of the road-and for Beyoncé it's just the beginning. The thing about Beyoncé is she's a natural star: extraordinarily talented, beautiful, and driven. Try as Destiny's Child might to present itself as a unified front, B has, and always will, outshine the others. It's a losing battle, and one they were wise to finally surrender.