Every Thursday in LOL Interwebz, Luke T. Harrington explores the quirks and foibles of Internet culture from a Gospel perspective.
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INT. – Day – Smoke-filled room
The scene opens in a smoke-filled room with the curtains drawn. The walls are lined with wood paneling; the curtains are velvet.
At the center of the room, a single man in a three-piece suit sits at a desk that matches the rich tone of the paneling. His face shows a hard determination, worn weary by years of corruption. He is Mat Carpenter, THE GLITTERFATHERFACE.
His face is smeared with glitter and his eyes are glazed. An enormous pile of glitter and envelopes is threatening to crush his desk under its weight.
Enter LACKEY #1, carrying a martini, or an Old Fashioned, or some purple Drank, or whatever it is gangsters are supposed to drink. Don’t ask me, I fell asleep watching The Godfather.
GLITTERFATHERFACE: I'm getting out of this business.
LACKEY #1 drops the purple Drank, shocked by this display of vulnerability.
LACKEY #1: Sir?
The GLITTERFATHERFACE rubs his nose aggressively, snorting like some sort of beast that runs on glitter and snorts a lot.
GLITTERFATHERFACE: I said I'm getting OUT! I'm done!
The GLITTERFATHERFACE angrily knocks an angry stack of envelopes to the floor, creating an angrily angry mushroom cloud of glitter. LACKEY #1 has never seen him like this, except every other day of his life.
LACKEY #1: But orders are piling up, Glitterfatherface. If you don't fill them, then --
The GLITTERFATHERFACE slams his glittery, fathery fist on the table with enough force to shake the entire room and launch a thousand ’90s rap albums.
GLITTERFATHERFACE: I DON'T CARE! I'm done with this business! Too many people hurt! Too high a cost to my family! Too many ethnic stereotypes! Too much glitter in my hair!
LACKEY #1 bends down to pick up the pieces of glass, which, like some sort of pretentious writer, are bleeding purple everywhere.
GLITTERFATHERFACE: It was such a simple plan, Lackey Number One. It was supposed to be my One Last Big Job.
LACKEY #1 discreetly sweeps the purple shards of glass into a wastebasket. Close-up on his finger, which he cuts, symbolizing…something deep. Probably.
GLITTERFATHERFACE: One Last Big Job. We set up a website where people can ship their enemies glitter! Called it "Ship Your Enemies Glitter Dot Com"! What could go wrong? I thought! Ha! What could go wrong...?
LACKEY #1 begins to sweep the glitter up from the floor.
GLITTERFATHERFACE: Leave it.
LACKEY #1: But, Glitterfatherfella...or whatever...
GLITTERFATHERFACE: I said LEAVE IT!
Close-up on LACKEY #1‘s trembling hands, as he backs away from his dustpan.
GLITTERFATHERFACE: Problem is, it turned out to be an offer they couldn't refuse!
LACKEY #1: Sir, why are you always quoting from Godfather's Pizza commercials?
GLITTERFATHERFACE: I live my life by the wisdom of Herman Cain.
LACKEY #1: Wow, I bet that's the first time anyone's ever said that.
GLITTERFATHERFACE: Yeah, probably. By the way, have you met my little friend?
LACKEY #1: Uh, I don't believe so.
GLITTERFATHERFACE: Well, SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND.
An OOMPA-LOOMPA, who has been quietly keeping books in the corner, looks up.
LACKEY #1: Uh, hi.
OOMPA-LOOMPA: How ya doing.
The OOMPA-LOOMPA stubs out his cigarette and goes back to his work. The GLITTERFATHERFACE rises and crosses to his liquor cabinet, where he begins fixing himself a drink. This shows that he is wealthy, important, and cultured. It’s called subtext.
GLITTERFATHERFACE: I'm in over my head, Lackey Number One. It's too late for me.
LACKEY #1: Sir, it's never too late --
GLITTERFATHERFACE: LOOK AT ME, LACKEY NUMBER ONE! JUST LOOK AT ME!!! Glitter on my face, in my hair, up my nostrils! I'm too deep in this stuff to ever get out!
LACKEY #1: You could just take a shower --
GLITTERFATHERFACE: Take a shower? TAKE A SHOWER? Have you ever tried to get rid of glitter, Lackey Number One!? You can't! It sticks to everything! It never goes away! That's why I got into this business in the first place! To help people annoy their enemies! But I only succeeded in annoying...MYSELF!
Now that he is speaking with multiple punctuation marks and large blocks of capital letters, the GLITTERFATHERFACEFELLATOUCHABLE, or whatever the heck we were calling him, begins to realize the enormity of his mistakes. His whole life is laid out before him, and he is overwhelmed by what could have been and devastated by what was. It’s very, very dramatic.
GLITTERFATHERFACE: You stare into the glittery abyss, the glittery abyss stares back, Lackey Number One. Well, no more! I'm out! I'm selling my website for $85,000!
LACKEY: That's not quite the tragic end I was expecting, sir.
GLITTERFATHERFACE: I know, right? Love this free market economy! #ThanksObama!
The next morning. The sun is rising behind the GLITTERFATHERFACE‘s lavish villa.
We cut to his bedroom, where he is waking in his four-poster bed, having slept well.
GLITTERFATHERFACE: Wait, what's this?
He retrieves an envelope from the folds of his sheets, opens it, and spills glitter everywhere.
“Whoever misleads the upright into an evil way will fall into his own pit.”