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I Wonder How the BET Awards Went Over in Hell

July 7, 2009
What Michael Wears On Casual Hell

What Michael Wears On Casual Hell

I didn’t get to see the BET Awards last week. From what I heard and read, stars were lining up to pay tribute to Michael Jackson. The biggest names in hip-hop, rap, and R&B were on hand to show their appreciation for one of the most talented and gifted performers to ever live.  The general consensus I’m seeing is that the tribute felt a bit rushed, but nonetheless heartfelt. That’s all well and good, but the real question on everyone’s minds should be: how do you think Michael Jackson reacted to it, watching from Hell? 

Michael loved the spotlight, but you have to wonder if all that attention would have embarrassed him a little bit while he was perched on a flaming hot stalagmite.  It had to make him a little uncomfortable to listen to all these megastars praise him…..that is if he could hear it over the wailing of the damned.  Many still regarded the quiet superstar as being very humble despite all his fame, so I’m sure he would have blushed at the notion that all these talented people were coming together just to honor him. It would have turned his cheeks red.  Or maybe they were red because of the brimstone roasting him for all eternity. You know, for all of those horrible things he did. I’d say you could definitively narrow it down to either embarrassment or brimstone.  No question it’s one of those two, and nothing else.

You have to believe that Michael marvelled at the pageantry of it all. The swank outfits, the lavish design of the stage, and the red carpets that resemble the blazing inferno that envelopes his being. I bet Michael, no stranger to the limelight, got tired thinking of all he would have to do if he was alive for the awards. It probably made him want to curl up in the massive George Foreman Grill on which he now has to  sleep, cooking him nightly like a Christmas chicken. The thought of all that activity probably made him happy that he was in Hell rather than Los Angeles. Or in prison, for that matter, where as a child molester he would be treated as the lowest common denominator of society’s scum.

It had to be an emotional night as he watched stars like Beyonce, Jamie Foxx, and Neyo blatantly ignore all the atrocities he committed to lap praise on him as if he was a firefighter, EMT, or schoolteacher. He probably had to take more than a few breaks from his job of carrying molten rocks up a very steep hill that he has been tasked with for all eternity. I bet he paused for a second, put his head in his hands, and gently wept in appreciation for this momentous honor, at least until his demon master shoved a steaming hot trident up his ass and told him to get back to work.

Wouldn’t it have been great to hear his reaction to the tribute? The producers of the show secretly set up a remote feed, and Michael’s ashen face appears on the Jumbotron as the crowd roars. And then he tearfully thanks everyone, assuring them that the tears are not due to his sadness from the tribute, but because of the lava sponge bath John Wayne Gacy gave him earlier that afternoon. 

It would be so good to hear Michael’s voice again. He could assure everyone that while he would never come back, his music would live on forever and touch their souls, or in the case of the children he assaulted, haunt their dreams.  Then he could wave to the crowd one last time and inform them that while he’d love to stay and chat, “I’m late for my badminton game with Dr. Mengele. Loser gets dropped into a vat of boiling acid surrounded by giant Hell-Lobsters .”

No matter what his reaction, I think we can all agree on one thing – out of all the tributes, nobody could perform a Michael song better than Michael himself.

Or at least that’s what Satan probably told him as he was whipping him with a thorn-covered jump rope.

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