The skies were dark over Hollywood…lightning flashes (evil organ music plays) above “Totally Not Racist Productions.” Lotor Goldberg sat at his desk…his fingers in a tent before his face. An evil smile upon his mouth as his #1 henchman, Ira walked in. Hunchbacked and slim, Ira shuffled forward with a package in one hand…his right hand. The other was malformed.
“A box arrived, sir” he spurted out.
“Good. I have awaited this for a while.” Lotor controlled his eagerness to rush at the box. He waited for Ira to set it upon the desk. Then calmly undid the tape. Sitting in the box…(cue startling music) Maria’s Family and Class reunion at Big Momma’s House. “Yes!” His fists clenched in triumph, “Now my evil designs will finally come to fruitition. With this final Maria installment, I shall, once and for all effeminate the Black Man! Muwahahaha!”
Ira was less than enthused. He stood by with a bored expression on his pimpled face. A sigh slipped past his lips. Lotor heard this and looked up at him. “What’s your problem? Don’t you see the glorious achievement of my plans coming?”
Ira sighed, “Did you get my email?”
“Ahh…noo…” Lotor’s eyes rotated to the top of their sockets. “Anyway, what has it to do with this…my crowning moment of villainy?”
“The email mentioned everything that concerns me, Master.” Ira said frankly. “I do not think that you thought this all the way out.”
“What?! Me?!” Lotor rose from his desk. The lightning flashed (organ music raises) through the giant window at his back. “I am white! I am rich! And I have crafted an engenious plan that will make the black male more feminine through simply watching these movies. For years I have been releasing these low grade, poorly written, stereotyped piles of in-cohesive material to the black movie going audience. Tyler Perry has a locked in demographic and who can resist Martin Lawrence in a fat suit.”
“But they don’t have to watch the movies. They can avoid them if they choose. Your plan only works on the few who actually watch those crappy movies.”
Lotor paused in his gloating to leer at Ira, “Ira, you don’t get it do you? Once one black male and/or female starts a trend, they all follow it. Get them in a room together and it will be easy as pie. Their girlfriends like men in dresses. Tyler Perry is making millions…they eat this shit up!”
Ira looked at his Master earnestly. “Yes, but a lot of them do not like these movies and avoid them. One movie had the supposedly old woman firing off a sub machine gun in her own home with no consequences what so ever…that same woman is supposed to be the moral focal point of the movie. Most people, not just blacks prefer shit to make sense.” Ira thought a moment…”What exactly do you plan to do once you have accomplished this plan…assuming it even works?”
The master sat back down. The evil smile played across his lips…a look of smug intelligence went across his face. “I don’t have a fucking plan.”
“Do you really think that I need to have a plan? Just release a rumor that Hollywood has an evil plan to make black men more pussified and they’ll believe it. Why? Because they always want to believe that there is a massive conspiracy aimed solely at them.”
“And then what?”
“I just said that I don’t have a fucking plan, Ira. That’s it.” Lotor laughed evilly.
“Wait.” Ira placed his good hand on his hip. “You went through years of conspiring with Tyler Perry to give him the financing for his plays, before propping him and other black male actors and directors in B or C grade movies requiring them to wear a dress, which were not funny in the least. Which were seen by either large church going crowds or people who didn’t have shit else to do. The rest waited and watched the shit on bootleg. Meanwhile, you have instituted this convoluted plan of sabotage predicated on the idea of people watching a movie voluntarily that they can easily avoid to make the black man more feminine for a purpose that you don’t even know.”
“Muwahahaha! It’s brilliant, isn’t it?” eyes flashing, Lotor smiled again. “For a moment there, I thought you didn’t get it.”
“I still don’t fucking get it!” Ira said exasperated. “Those movies sucked and most black men have a serious issue with feminine men anyway. Why would they watch any of these movies?”
“Ira, you disappoint me, I can see that your time as my #1 henchman is coming to an end.” Lotor sounded almost sad about it. “It just occurred to me that you don’t see my genius. I’m white…they already distrust me. So, I couldn’t make those movies, but I can be involved with a black man gullible enough to direct, star, or write a movie like it. Then…oh…then…they’ll watch it. Infecting them with femininity! They’ll be total wusses!”
“Ok…then can’t that plan be counteracted by watching a movie with…i don’t know…Denzel Washington or any other black male NOT wearing a dress?”
Lotor stopped and looked at Ira. Ira looked back at Lotor. Who looked back at Ira. “I didn’t think about that. Why didn’t I of all people…Lotor…a card carrying member of T.H.E.Y. think about that? I’m on the damn board for crying out loud!” A look of panic went across Lotor’s pasty white face…his red lips quivered. “If watching 2 or 3 of all black male actors play a female every now and then can make them feminine…then they can watch a movie with a supremely masculine specimen and become more…masculininy. That would ruin everything.”
Ira just had to ask…”You never tested this did you? I mean, how did you even get the idea that it was working in the first place?”
A tear streamed down Lotor’s face. “I read the angry comments on Facebook.” *sniff* “I’m ruined.”
Ira watched his master…the evil white man he had served for years, crumple into a pile of misery. He shuffled out of the office, paused at the door with satisfied smile on his face. He walked down the hall, to the elevator, on his way down his gait changed, his posture straightened, and before he was out of the door, the fake pimples had been removed. Walking to the car that awaited him he felt a bit of remorse, until he opened the door and saw the dark brown skinned lady in the black dress sitting behind the wheel.