Flogging a Dead Face

Funny story written by matwil

Wednesday, 29 July 2009

image for Flogging a Dead Face
Di capo di tutti cine et ciocolatte. E latte e grappa, e ...

Today many prominent businessmen and people from the worlds of entertainment, sport and science were meeting at a Flogging a Dead Face convention in New York City, to find ways of coming to a peaceful solution to the battle for control of endlessly mentioning and talking about Michael Jackson.

Convention host Donald V. Corleone announced to the delegates: 'People, we must keep this thing going on as long as is humanly possible. Interviews with people that knew him, interviews with people that didn't, endless clips of moonwalks, endless spoof articles that all somehow seem the same, endless articles that are identical to the endless ones about Jade Goody, are you all with me?' And to weary 'I suppose so's from journalists and business managers, 'the Don' continued.

'But we need co-ordination now. In the past we have all been a little too hasty and hot-headed', Corleone said, 'and maybe some of us got just a bit too carried away with supplying the public with mind-numbingly boring articles. Everywhere you went it was Goody this, body part that, snigger, snigger, snigger.'

'After all, we are all men here, not adolescent girls gossiping about makeup!', to laughs from the audience. 'I suggest all of us should join together and take this Jackson phenomena, and use our connections in the media to flog that dead horse over and over, article after copied story after mention of skin color', and 'Don' Corleone sat down to polite applause from the rest of the convention.

'You all know me', another delegate said, rising from his chair, 'Donald Barfweenie from Detroit. Now, let us not rush into any decisions here. None of us can have forgotten the mistakes made with the Angelina Jolie articles', to embarrassed mutterings and shuffling of the feet by some of the delegates.

'Yeah, I know, two of you here came to serious handbags at dawn about writing about that uninteresting nonentity. So I agree, 'Don' Corleone, the infighting must stop. But not just on your terms', to much heartier applause from the floor, and Barfweenie retook his seat.

'My friends', Corleone answered him and the hall, 'have we learnt nothing from the mistakes we made about Jade Goody? And Angelina Jolie? We were so busy arguing we let those two golden opportunities slip through our fingers, there's hardly a mention of the two nowadays. But', and here 'the Don''s voice grew sterner, 'Goody was the real mistake.'

'Not only an uninteresting nobody to keep the tittle tattlers going on for ever, but also one that died. You can't get a better scenario than that to fuel endless articles, spoofs, and news stories and anniversaries for all the gaffosios to talk about, yet we let it go.'

'Because I am big enough, I admit my disagreements with 'Don' Barfweenie and Susando Boilio meant we messed up, all of us. Now we must join together again with this Michael Jackson thing.'

'With all the five non-satirists united, we could milk this for months, even years. I am making you all an offer you can't refuse, unless it's your knitting circle night or evening for pansy arranging classes. This is our thing, cosi fan tutte, so let us get ourselves in opera dalmatia.'

'Don' Vito Brattaglia rose from his chair. 'Corleone is right', he said, 'unless we make peace the Jackson thing will disappear in as short a time as six months, and be reduced to a subject that writers keep writing about because they have no brains or any original ideas about current news.'

'Let us all say 'We messed up, we should've stuck together with Angelina and Goody, and kept whole websites filled with them for decades.' Let us bury our differences, and crack open the crates of vintage Chateau de l'Amy wine!', to much cheering and coughing and rubbing of over-extended stomachs.

'Don' Corleone made the final speech of the convention, before the drinks were served. 'I think we are all agreed, then, and united to make Jackson something that will go on for years. I trust 'Don' Barfweenie will continue to run the writers writing about one another and voting for one another rackets?', and Barfweenie nodded his agreement.

'And 'Don' Saddo will keep his endless same old body part mentions that make kiddies snigger activities going to fill out whole websites and news stories?' 'Of course, is the Pope a Nazi?' 'Good, then it is finished', and soon the delegates were drinking the wine, and watching the circus that had been specially hired for the evening.

Acts such as The Emaciated Horse That Tries To Sing, The Transexual Freak That Can't Sing, The Large Chested Actress, and The Bare-faced Copy Cats, all reminded the convention just what sort of thing they could all look forward to in the coming future.

'Salute!', Corleone said to Barfweenie, and 'Terra in occhio tue', came the reply. 'We are now Murdering Satire Inc.', added 'Don' Brattaglia, and 'Who's paying for all this drink and entertainment?', added 'Don' Misero di Scozia.

Mario Puzo is now turning in his grave.

The funny story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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