Click here for Part One of MDJ Superstar’s thrilling, purely fictional Manly Man Manifesto adventures as he stood face to face with the unholy army of the Bieber-Gaga cult of teenybopper pop culture!
MDJ Superstar was trapped. He knew there was no escape. He could either help art-direct the fashion pictorial of the freshly-dolled up Fashion Diva Princesses on the gardens facing Bonifacio High Street’s local hell-hole of pink glitter, Club Princess, or he could burn in eternal damnation on the fiery altar of the Cult of Gaga.
“You leave me no choice, foul princesses,” he muttered, as a single perfect tear welled up in his glistening ochre eyes. “With the help of my assistant models, Trixie and Ara, I will elevate you to fashion immortality.”
Off scampered the Fashion Diva Princesses, with MDJ Superstar trudging sadly in their wake. They lined up in the ever-extending ebony shadow of Club Princess, squealing and giggling with nervous eagerness.
The foul pink soldiers of Gaga forming their demonic ranks, with the assistance of professional models Trixie & Ara.
“Alright girls!” exclaimed MDJ Superstar, his fear now swallowed and digested into a more manageable lump of fortitude, “At the count of three, everyone smile, pose, and shout, DIVA!!!”
The girls tossed their be-glittered hair in the wind, with feathered boas whipping ferociously around them like dragon-snakes searching ravenously for their next victim. A pall of anticipation befell them.
MDJ Superstar gathered his breath. In the distance, the shrill call of a lone wolf echoed through a morose sky.
“ONE… TWO… THREE… DIVA!!!”
The assembled ranks of the Underage Frilly Fashion Diva Princesses.
“Will you spare me?” MDJ Superstar intoned, his voice rasping slightly. “Will you allow me to go off to do Appropriately Manly Things such as having my car detailed or downloading scintillating pornography at Flesh Asia Daily 3.0?”
“We shall do no such thing,” squealed the horde of Fashion Diva Princesses. “We shall invite you to partake in some chocolate cake, and possibly even chicken fingers with us at TGIFriday’s, and watch us as we do our fashion walk-off on the High Holy Catwalk of Gaga!”
And so off they dashed to the nearby restaurant, filling the bar area with a throng of pink glitter and giggles.
Zarah is shocked at the ferocious torrent of Fashion Diva Princesses who filled the room with their demonic glitter-gear..
Within, a tall, sombre figure of imposing height towered above the crowd of 7-year old’s, her impassive stare reading into the very nooks and crannies of each of their souls. She was Carisse Escueta, and she knew what it meant to be a Fashion Diva Princess too.
Taking charge: Carisse, the High Holy Priestess of Gaga holds court over the Fashion Diva Princesses.
“Alright Fashion Diva Princesses,” she exclaimed, “Everybody line up on stage and get ready to vamp down the red carpet!”
Getting ready to own the catwalk.
A wild cheer emanated from the assembled ranks of the Diva Fashion Princesses. Catwalks and red carpets were completely familiar territory to them. They had, after all, absorbed every single episode of the last 18 seasons of America’s Next Top Model.
And off they vamped. They ramped, and they stamped. The red carpet was their dominion, and each other’s cheers and giggles were their fire.
“All right Divas,” thundered Carisse once the 19-strong contingent had completed its parade. “Let’s get the birthday girl Bea on stage, and we can have her blow out her candles!”
Getting ready to put out the Fashion Flames burning steadily on the Barbie birthday cake.
An uneven chorus of “Happy Birthday To You” broke out, serenading little Bea with love and appreciation. “Happy birthday, dear Bea… Happy birthday to you!”
And like a gracious duchess bidding thanks to a delegation of nobles, Bea mounted the stage with her beautiful, extremely curvaceous mother, and expressed her heart-felt emotions to her fellow Fashion Diva Princesses.
“Thank you so much for coming,” she purred. “I had so much fun, and hope you all did too!”
And swift as a lightning bolt, it was all over, a shower of warm applause washing over the birthday girl as laser-lights traced constellations around her.
“It was all worth it,” thought MDJ Superstar to himself, nodding with a fresh wave of understanding. “These girls live to diva. Viva la diva!”
Far above him, a single, flawless white dove took flight into the air.
Slowly, it sailed higher and higher into the sky, finally vanishing into a sparkling lake of molten gold as the sun beamed serenely down upon 19 newly-minted Fashion Diva Princesses.
World peace, muttered MDJ Superstar to nobody in particular. It was all about world peace.
The Birthday Girl.
This epic two-part extravaganza is dedicated to two of the most perfect, wonderful, beautiful women in my life – the lovely, talented, and extremely voluptuous Zarah Hernaez, and her wonderfully charming little girl, Bea.
Madonna & Child.