When a young new arts couple came to this Christo-fascist town in the late twentieth-century, they were cast in a dreamy Shakespearean play by a celebrated boorish local producer who told everybody on his complicit creative team that heʼd cast the actress wife because she has “big boobs”. A community cast including the assistant dictator who was also the drama teacher for the Bombersʼ high-school featured a group of his adolescent students who were forced into tears by the patriarchal men-in-chargeʼs angry insistence that teens wear skimpy bathing-suits in front of their friends and families. 

When the go-getter wife was filming a documentary in the Capitalistic Theatre awhile later, its ogre-like Technical Dictator tragically in charge of public safety yelled at her to “f*ck off!” with absolutely no consequences from anyone supposedly in charge of his minstrel-show hosting non-profit venue reliant on public handouts. The same unsupervised menace then decided it would be a swell idea for him to regularly ogle the teen girls performing on-stage through his binoculars from the tech-booth, while commenting salaciously about their bodies on headset to the horrified wife. Did anybody in a top position of purported power do anything at all about these consequential perversions to this day when they were repetitively reported to successive fascistic regimes? Absolutely not! Not only did they coddle and protect the licentious monster, while persecuting the mom-and-pop whistleblowers to the point of them being ostracized by their appeasing peers, the guilty board retired his monstrous ass with ill-gained glory and unconscionable acclaim for all the awfully sick actions he was never busted for in any way ever. Not even the exposed coverup of his officially investigated injury-claim negligence which almost killed the married coupleʼs stage-manager could put a dent in the devious ogreʼs evil spell over his WASPy cult. 

When the actress wife was cast in Le Cabaret as a prostitute, she had to endure an actor ʻsailorʼ shoving his tongue down her throat on a daily basis despite her vociferous objections to him and the producing Black Queen herself, whoʼs still unrepentant about ignoring his persistent assaults on her friend without any intervention from her or their egotist director who later prosecuted the husband for standing up against the ogreʼs brutality. 

When the sociopathic Shakespearean producer picked the husband actor to be the star of a murder-mystery play in which his multilayered performance was favourably compared to Brando by a Daily Snooze review, they had a fierce debate wherein the producer insisted on pointing his loaded blank-gun at the actor despite this insane action being a proven killer of stars and fallen cinematographers alike. Only when the resolute actor threatened to walk off-stage in front of a packed audience did the producer relent from demanding the very real risk of death just to make his threatening lethal point. 

When the disrespected husband fought for a balanced resolution to the ogreʼs near-killing of their concussed, bloodied & hospitalized stage-manager (in addition to the monsterʼs passive-aggressive harassment of the resilient wife), the sadistic staff and turncoat board-members of the Capitalistic Theatre gang decided to spend public bucks to put the husband on trial over inadmissible hearsay sourced from the private confines of the married coupleʼs home by fake friends who turned out to be rats in disguise. When the one-sided mediator finally grasped the deceptive delusions being wielded by the theatreʼs Executive Dictator on behalf of her biased board rife with blatant conflicts-of-interest, even they had to question the integrity of a serial systemic harasser who will never stop. 

When the husband-and-wife duo dared to team up again for another production in spite of the theatre mobʼs unresolved liabilities, they refused to sign any contracts with the untrustworthy clique of traitors still running the show despite its evidential flaws and failures. Thusly, they had to witness the unaccountable, unpunished & unrelenting Tech Ogreʼs ongoing disgustingness as he: escalated his ʻhugs-for-candyʼ scheme, practiced in the open for years with only his preferred submissive young women; infiltrated the ʻgirlsʼ dressing-room whenever he could, even though thereʼs no reason for a tech-dick ogre to ever be in there when women are changing; insulted a stage-mom by making tastelessly unfunny wise-guy cracks about how she must want him to spank her; and proceeded to be an irredeemable jerk to anyone who did not kowtow to his bullying. Need it be mentioned that the ogre shares the same given name as the beast in UnHolywood who made a notorious career out of abusing and grooming vulnerable starlets? 

When the fed-up husband confronted the King Rat of the immoral theatreʼs unethical board ruled with an iron-fist of coercion by its Executive Dictator, the prime betrayer in question decided it would be wise to make rape ʻjokesʼ for weeks about the high-school costume that he wore in his next musical, before threatening the wife with unsubtle hints to be quiet or else there would be retributive consequences for exposing the Capʼs insurance coverup. Sadly, vindictiveness and malicious slander became the Rat Kingʼs modus operandi in swift lockstep with his collusive Dictator and her jackboot pet ogre. 

When the husband was set to perform a Scrooge-inspired charity reading for a churchʼs food bank, he had to endure a non-joke from the theatreʼs drama teacher (who promoted the skimpy costumes, played the pedophiliac judge in a demonic musical & also tried the husband) in which the creep cackled that heʼd always yearned to see our townʼs choir director tied up in chains as she was for her upcoming Marley ghost scene. 

When the sycophantic Black Queen was set to choose her next musical theatre fiasco after the WASP-washed Mama Mia set in Greece without any Greek characters in sight, she imperially thought it would be a good idea for herself as a white woman somehow in charge of anti-racism at the racist CoN to mount a whites-only Little Shoppe of Horrors with her bossy white friends cast as soul-sister singers, despite the show being a quintessential African-American Motown classic that celebrates Black culture. Only after the married couple pleaded with her to not tarnish her own brand with ignorant racism powered by cultural appropriation did the mad Black Queen relent in her colonial follies. 

Lastly, when the exiled married couple who arrived with the best of intentions to enjoy community theatre in this small ʻcityʼ decided to engage in one last-ditch attempt at reconciliation with the stonewalling theatre mafia, they were maligned and dismissed yet again by a whole new batch of deceitful allies and dreadful staff who defended the ogre while burying their own internal ʻinvestigationʼ which obviously never dug up any evidence to refute the husband and wifeʼs longstanding grievances and documented protestations. Because as we know, if the inept villains had any real facts to disprove our credible heroesʼ mountain of evidence, we would’ve heard about them by now, donʼt you think? 

#forstmedia #goldenheron #opinion #alsotruth #release #justthetip