Waking up in make-up

A shocked collective populace screams in wonder, “HOW CAN THAT HAPPEN???” Media outlets nationwide decry, “Far beyond our wildest beliefs!” Maybelline has done the unthinkable: hit a demographic of abused babymamas previously untapped by Revlon or Botox.

Estee Lauder-Maybelline, a distant in-law of the original make-up maven, stated as such: “These dregs of society…these mockeries of taxpayer dollars…we had no idea of their retarded spending power.” Since Maybelline started seventy-one thousand years ago, the target audience has been the same boring crap: ugly white middle class women looking for miracle skin spackle.

In the mid-90’s, when modeling took a depressing turn toward the ugly duckling, Maybelline saw a brief period of profit as this cluster thought, “Those models are homely like me, some 99 cent blush will make me a STAR!” However, thanks to Tyra Banks and America’s Next Top Model, some beauty, albeit sans weight, was brought back to the mainstream. The painting giant already suffered from a boring demographic, and their “dot com” sales went sagging when millions of equally saggy white boring middle aged women were caught ordering “Pretty Plaster of Paris” from their work computers. Eventually, the only thing synonymous with Maybelline was a shitty TV show that brought justice to unmarried mothers.

Then it clicked: Maybelline – harbinger of the law – in a beauty fortified society. Judge and Estee Lauder-Maybelline formed a formidable tag team. Singly, some judge show blew and people were either too far into Botox or too young to remember the once-household name.

Then came borne the acquiescence of a generation – appeal to a brand new group of shoppers that are newly garnering as much popularity as Beyonce: some beat-up, broke-down nappy looking ho with four kids, a sufferable income, and scaly skin. All class strata in this fascist society agree on one thing: nobody REALISTICALLY spends their gumment checks on food, clothing, or the lottery.

The commercial of comical pregnancy was delivered – the jurist of a questionable name played a beaten down hooker with far too many offspring (makeup provided by Avon) – opposite Taye Diggs (makeup provided by the health and beauty counter in Rite-Aid). No real network would pick up the commercial because Taye Diggs is gay (sorry girls, Idina Mendez is a male Annie Lennox). Eventually, WB and UPN reluctantly aired the media ad alongside Cher infomercials.

“GODDAMMIT!!!” bellowed Lauder-Maybelline in that really gay queeny manner. “Don’t nobody watch these bullshit channels!! Nobody follows Cher or Jack Cafferty anymore!! Son of a bitch, just pay me in gumment cheese!”

Soon the miracle occurred – the kind of miracle only Culture Club can sing about. Whitney Watkins of the White Trash section in obscure upstate New York just south of Albany happened to be watching the WB at 3am, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fourth farewell DVD done by either Cher or Jack Cafferty. She drunkenly paid attention to a commercial with her sleeping aunt and three children, all in the same bed. There are the judge…Taye Diggs…reviling makeup, and Whitney just HAD to hit the twenty-four-hour Wal*Mart before it closed. A few dabs of crap later, Whitney really looked like somebody who didn’t share a bed with her mother’s sister (though, nobody is sure of the exact relation). When the Marketing Maybellines caught wind of their first sales, the judge went batshit: “Fuck this!! We get our first sales from the most irrelevant corner of the world. Is upstate New York even IN this world?”

Apparently it isn’t, but someone HAD to find out who this person was, and they had traced the sale to Ms. Watkins’ EBT card.

“Shit on THAT shit, girl!!! We have to get her for another commercial!” exclaimed Lauder-Maybelline. So bla bla bla the commercial was done bla bla bla and they finally got rid of that fucking Taye Diggs and replaced him with Elton John.

The sales came rolling in, babymamas looked human and started landing jobs, the welfare rolls decreased significantly, and the turnaround of an economy was attributed to two crazy chicks who thought Taye Diggs could lure a buying public.

Get beat. Buy liquid and plastic goo. Become a national sensation.