After telling me that I would finally learn the motiviation of MFOYA, the group began to laugh amongst themselves again. Finally, Turnip MFOYA leaned towards me. “The motivation is what confuses everyone. We’ve seen them trying to figure out what made us do this, and arguing different ideas. They’ll never be able to do it, though, because they just don’t get it. We are different. Just as we come from all walks of life, we come from different starting points. Trying to ascribe one reason for each of us is like running on a hamster wheel, you’re never gonna get anywhere.”
“If you each have your own reason, please explain it to me. I’m sure my readers would be fascinated what makes each of you tick” I answered.
Sybil MFOYA spoke first. “I joined MFOYA because I saw it as my chance to be a force again. When our idol was competing, I was one of those who spearheaded his win. I was a driving force on the internet, rallying fans to vote. After the victory, I was ignored, my role in the campaign forgotten. I saw MFOYA as a chance to once again become that internet force and I this time I would receive the acknowledgement that I deserved.”
I turned to Sad MFOYA, because she seemed to want to speak. “I loved the man. I would have done anything for that man. I knew if I could just have one hour of private time , if I was given just one opportunity to be with him backstage, that he would feel the same way. And then I found out he had someone else, not just some random one-night stand, but a relationship, and I could not believe he would do that to me. She must be destroyed, so that I could step into my rightful place.”
The Soul-less MFOYA spoke next. “Have you seen the fans? Do you realize what an embarassment they are to him? I tried to get along with them, but I got kicked off of every site there is. If these people can be culled from the fan base, it will be better for him. He needs younger fans, he needs to be surrounded by people like us, not those fanatic SPers. If his reputation is tarnished enough, they will become disillusioned and move on. Sure, it may hurt him for a bit, but in the end he will thank us.”
Dancing MFOYA and Bug MFOYA nodded their heads in agreement.
I turned to Beavis and Butthead MFOYA. “What about you two?” I asked. “Why are you doing this?” They responded to me with a snort and a cackle. “Shoot, we just want to hang with the *cool* crowd. Whatever it takes, man.”
Hollywood MFOYA spoke next. “His team is not doing anything right. If they had listened to me, he would be doing so much better. I know the business, I have connections, I know what it takes. I tried to get close to him, to help him, but no, he wouldn’t listen. Hopefully, he will learn a lesson from all of this.”
Finally, I turned to Turnip MFOYA. “You haven’t spoken yet. Why would a fan do this?”
Turnip MFOYA threw back it’s head and laughed. “Me, a fan? That’s a joke, you stupid fool. I’m involved because I want payback. I never wanted him to win. America didn’t pick the true idol, they got suckered by some no-talent bar band hack. This is payback. The sooner this guy fades away, the happier I’m gonna be.”
I understood now what Turnip MFOYA meant. Too much time had been wasted trying to “get” MFOYA, to understand the reasons why. When you got past all the smoke and mirrors, it didn’t REALLY matter what the motivation was. A group can rationalize all they want about the reasons behind their evil, but when it comes down to it, does it really matter? It’s still evil.
I turned to face all of the MFOYA. “Well, you’ve accomplished your mission, you said so yourselves in your documentary, your “truth” has been seen by the masses. Does this mean MFOYA ends?”
Laughter, shrill and on the verge of psychotic, erupted from them. “Stop?” screamed Dancing MFOYA, “Stop? Hell, we’re just getting started. This may have started out being about the scam, but we forgot about that a long time ago. It’s about us now. We have people listening to us, we have people talking about us! We’ve always been ignored, treated as if we were nobodies. Well, we’re somebodies now, for the first time in our lives we feel alive. We’re not about to give up the spotlight.”
It grew quiet again. It was as if talking to me had spent all of their energy, and they all sat back in their chairs, exhausted.
I waited, wondering what was going to happen next.
I heard the sound of the heavy door, opening. All of the MFOYAs looked past me, and greeted someone.
I turned around to see who it was.
To Be Continued.
The lights dimmed, as the screen lit up. The title of the film splashed across the screen “The Greatness of MFOYA, From Then To Now”. After the typical dirge intro, the cameras showed the same room that I was presently sitting in. Slowly the camera panned onto an individual sitting in a very large throne-like chair. This was someone I had yet to see. This MFOYA was the strangest I had seen yet. One minute it’s face looked ordinary, the next second it morphed into the image of a devil, then back to it’s normal countenance, over and over. Half-Devil MFOYA!
Half-Devil MFOYA began to speak. “The MFOYA you see today was not always the greatness that it has become. It started long ago, from tiny planted seeds, to grow into the mighty oak that it is today. MFOYA come from many walks of life, from many cities and states. They have bonded together to accomplish one mission, to expose the truth.
Many of the MFOYA attempted individually to spread the word, but to no avail. It was only when we banded together, as one, that success was achieved.
The danger of being a messenger of truth is well known by MFOYA. We have been ridiculed and laughed at, we have been silenced and thrown out of many gatherings. But the stupidity and arrogance of those who tried to silence us, has only made us stronger.
We began to meet in private, at a secure facility called Giraffe. We began to investigate, to track our prey, to find out as much as we could about them. We tracked their addresses, their personal information, we found their sites and we befriended them. If they were at a public activity, we made sure that we knew about it, tracking their every move. As private as this site, we needed even more privacy, because there were still some who questioned us and our techniques. We burned Giraffe down, obliterating any evidence that we had ever been there. From the ashes arose MFOYA, just as a phoenix.
We began small. Our first blog centered around the stupidity and ignorance of the fans. This did not attract the attention that we wanted, so we stepped up the intensity with our first post about the scam. We presented it as a hypothesis, in fact, we even portrayed ourselves as questioning the scam, just to see how we could get others to react. It was still not enough. We knew that the stupid masses are reluctant to strike out on their own and follow a leader, unless they feel that they are not the only ones. So we began to post under different names, to encourage others to join in. It worked for a little while, people began to visit our site, but they still could not accept our truth, they still questioned our knowledge.
We knew that we needed more, we needed for the world to acknowledge us. Fortunately, our talents were many. We needed proof, and we had the means necessary to create that proof. We worked our photographic magic to cast doubt about people’s identities. Finally, after months of hard work, somebody listened. We had support from a reliable, though little known, news site. They published our truth. There were some who stated that they were mocking us, but we knew the truth, we always have.
So that is the greatness of MFOYA you see today. We have done all of this work, sacrificed time, neglected our families and our livelihoods, to bring the truth to you. If you are watching this, it means that we have succeeded. We are the Great MFOYA.”
With that last statement, Half-Devil MFOYA rose from it’s chair, and was flanked by the other MFOYA. They began to celebrate. Corks popped, confetti flew. The screen went black.
I turned in my chair and faced the MFOYA around me. Sybil MFOYA and Dancing MFOYA had tears running down their cheeks. Beavis and Butthead MFOYA were cackling away between themselves. The others just stared at me, waiting for my response.
I looked from MFOYA to MFOYA, unsure of exactly what they expected my response to be.
“Interesting little film”, I said, “but hardly one that’s going to make it into any theater, not even the ones with the sticky floors and the men in raincoats. I stll don’t understand what you expect from all of this. What’s your motivation?”
The MFOYA seemed upset by my question. Again, more whispering between them. Finally, Sad MFOYA spoke “Why does it matter why we did it, the important thing is…it was done.”
“It does matter”, I answered, “because you can’t expect for people to understand your truth, unless they understand why it’s important to them. How does it impact their lives? Otherwise, it’s like the newspaper they read one minute, and the next minute put at the bottom of their birdcage to be shit on. You don’t want to be that newspaper, do you?”
More whispering, more discussion between the MFOYA. Finally, Turnip MFOYA turned to me and said “You want to know our motivation? We’ll tell you.”
To Be Continued
The MFOYA began to chat amongst themselves, I’m assuming they were trying to decide who was going to be their spokesperson. As I waited, I looked at each of them with greater scrutiny. Since they had not introduced themselves, I was going to have to tag them with nicknames in order to differentiate between them.
Of course, there was the stringy blond haired MFOYA, whom I immediately dubbed The Turnip. Turnip was wearing a t-shirt with a big old Tool Box on it’s chest. I wasn’t quite sure of it’s meaning, maybe it was just a fan of tools.
Next to Turnip, was a MFOYA wearing what resembled a tutu. Remember when you were a kid and you got your first little jewelry box? When you opened it up, there was a tiny twirling little dancer inside, going round and round? As a child, I tried to imitate it, but I never looked like a ballerina, I just got dizzy! I immediately dubbed this one Dancing MFOYA.
Next came a pair that seemed to be joined at the hip, speaking almost in unison. They seemed to think they were quite funny, every once in awhile nudging each other and cackling away. Since they seemed to be inseperable I named them Beavis and Butthead.
Then came a very unusual looking MFOYA. It’s eyes were very large and it’s body very small. It reminded me of the bugs that would come out during the early summer months back home. Bug MFOYA!
The next MFOYA was quite the sight. Again a very ordinary looking individual, but in some attempt to adopt a “groovier” image, was sporting a French beret, as if that would add a sophisticated aura to it. It had a very sad face, as if it was in mourning. Sad MFOYA.
The next MFOYA seemed to be a bit confused. Again ordinary in appearance, but when you looked into it’s eyes, it was if it had lost it’s soul. In it’s hands it clutched a drawing that looked to have been created by a child. The drawing was of a man, but a very strange looking man, not anyone that I recognized. The drawing looked as if it had been around for a very long time, with dog-eared corners and food stains on it. Though this MFOYA seemed to treasure this drawing, one could tell it hadn’t treated it with much care. Soul-less MFOYA!
I turned my attention to the next MFOYA, who seemed very active, but I wasn’t quite sure what it was doing. It had multiple cell phones, Blackberries and other devices all round it, and it seemed in between talking to the other MFOYA, it was busy taking calls and making plans. Have you ever seen those movies with someone playing the part of a talent scout or agent, always on the phone, always making deals, seems to know everybody? That’s what it reminded me of. Hollywood MFOYA!
The last MFOYA I studied was probably the most interesting of the whole crazy bunch. Wearing what seemed to be credentials around it’s neck, it seemed the busiest of them all. It seemed to be going back and forth, talking to one MFOYA in one manner, then turning to the next one and talking in a completely different voice, then using a third voice to talk to someone else. The entire time it was talking, it was taking notes. I decided to name this one Sybil MFOYA.
Just as I finished studying the cast of characters around me, the MFOYA stopped talking amongst themselves, and turned their attention to me.
Turnip MFOYA spoke. “So, you’ve come looking for MFOYA and you’ve found MFOYA. The fact that you were able to find us means nothing. We allowed you to find us because we decided it was time that the truth should come out.”
“The truth about “the scam”?”, I asked. “I thought you already had put that “truth” out.”
Hollywood MFOYA spoke next. “The “scam” has been put out there. We’ve been proven to be correct. It’s up to those idiots out there whether they want to believe it or not, that’s not our concern.”
“Nothing has been proven about any “scam”, I replied, “the only thing that has been proven is there are a few people who are willing to believe anything because it’s been posted on the “internet”.
Suddenly, Sybil MFOYA, jumped up from it’s chair and began running around in circles, yelling “It’s been published, if it’s published it must be true.” over and over again. The other MFOYA ran over to calm it down, and eventually got it back into it’s chair.
There was silence again. Then Soul-less MFOYA reached across the table, still clutching it’s drawing and pushed a button that was in the middle of the table. All of the MFOYA turned towards the wall behind me, motioning for me to turn also.
As I turned in my chair, I saw a large screen being lowered from the ceiling. When it finally was extended, I heard the sounds of a DVD being slid into a machine, and images began to appear on the screen.
To Be Continued.
The heavy door swung open and I stepped into the next room. I don’t know what I expected, maybe a dungeon with instruments of torture? Once again, MFOYA surprised me. It was as if I had entered a room in Buckingham Palace or Versailles. There were frescos, statues, and paintings. Every piece of furniture seemed to have been dipped in gilt. Marie Antoinette would have felt right at home.
The MFOYA walked over to a large round table and sat down, leaving one empty chair. I waited for them to say something, to give me some clue of what they expected, but none came. I decided, what the hell, I was in up to my little neck in shit anyway. So I walked over to the empty chair and sat down.
Still, no one spoke. In front of each chair, there were porfolios, and the MFOYA seemed entraced by the contents, reading each page carefully. I took this time to study their faces. Again, I was struck by their ordinary looks. They came in different shapes and sizes, different hair colors and complexions. I was trying to find a common thread between them, but was coming up empty.
Finally, in unison, they closed the portfolios and looked at me. Still, they said nothing.
If their silence was intended to strike fear in me, they were doing a pretty good job. Once again, I made the decision that I was already pretty well screwed, so there was nothing to lose.
“So, you’re MFOYA? I must say, you’re hardly what I expected to meet.”
At first there was no reaction, but then, finally, one of them began to chuckle, quickly followed by the others.
A MFOYA finally spoke. “We’ve protected ourselves very well. Our identities have remained hidden for many reasons. There will come a time when we will reveal ourselves, but that time hasn’t come yet. Which makes having you find us a problem.”
While the MFOYA was talking, I studied it’s appearance. Again, a very plain looking person, stringy blonde hair, with an unusual body shape. I almost wanted to say it’s figure reminded me of a vegetable, maybe a turnip?
I answered, “There’s no problem really. I’m a journalist, we have a code of ethics that we hold to. You can tell me anything you want, and I would never disclose my sources or your identities.”
Again, the MFOYA chuckled, followed by the others. “Oh yes, we know all about you journalists. HA! We’ve been trying to get you to work with us for months, and not once has one of you returned our calls or messages. Here we are, with probably the MOST important story in a decade, and you’ve ignored us.”
“I can’t speak for anyone else,” I said, “but I’m here now, and our publication, the Trailer Trash Tribune, is ready to help you.”
At this point, the MFOYA began whispering amongst themselves. Finally, another MFOYA spoke “We’ll talk to you. We’ll tell you everything. Then, if we decide that you’re smart enough to really get what MFOYA is all about, we’ll let you publish our story. If not…..” Though the MFOYA did not finish the sentence, I could pretty much fill in the blanks all by myself.
I sat back and waited for the story to begin.
To Be Continued
I must have lost consciousness for a few seconds, or maybe my mind just needed to take a break. I don’t remember any gradual approach, just one second darkness, the next second my eyes opening. I saw forms in front of me, but it took a moment for my vision to clear enough to actually see what or who was surrounding me.
I don’t know what I was expecting to see when I finally was up close with MFOYA. Maybe I was expecting some type of alien form or gruesome monsters. Imagination can do funny things. I guess I was the most surprised at what I did see.
Ordinary, everyday, normal looking people. No one had three eyes, or horns or anything else that would differentiate them from the average person walking down the street or in line at Starbucks. In fact, they were they type of people one wouldn’t even take a second glance at.
Startled, I blurted out “You’re MFOYA?” I started laughing. I’m not sure if it was because of the relief that I felt, or the realization that I may have gotten myself in WAY too deep.
Evidently, my laughter irritated them, because they all began to shout. It was hard to understand it all, because they were trying to speak over each other. I heard “stupid”, “smart”, “idiot”, and “liar”. All the words that one can read ad nauseum at the site. Evidently, MFOYA did not have a thesaurus.
It was as if they all stopped shouting on cue. They began to whisper amongst themselves. There didn’t seem to be a leader, or if there was, evidently that position was in name only.
Finally, a MFOYA took a few steps towards me. As I looked at it, I noticed it had an very unusual gait, almost like a cat, ready to pounce. I looked at into it’s eyes, and what I saw there terrified me. There was nothing. I felt like I was looking into a deep cavern.
The MFOYA shouted, “Come with us.” Evidently, whatever hospitality they had been taught by their parents was no longer a part of their routine.
Seeing no other options available at the moment, I rose from the chair and followed, with some of the MFOYA’s flanking both sides, and a few behind me to prevent my escape.
We approached a door. Though the door was made from heavy wood planks, a bright light was coming out from under it. A MFOYA opened the door, and motioned for me to walk through it.
To Be Continued Monday
“But MFOYA, what is the truth?”, I asked.
The MFOYA clown was staring, not at me, but over my shoulder. I turned around to look, but again, all I could see were sets of eyes. The MFOYA clown leaped up from it’s chair and started running towards the darkness. I finally couldn’t see it at all, just a light glow emanating from it’s bulbous red nose (having seen it slug back the Jack, I understood how it got that way). I could hear whispering and movement, but no words were discernible. Then there was stillness.
I slowly got up my chair, and began inching my way backwards, towards the opening. Screw my journalistic code, I just wanted to get away from the madness. I had made it about half way, when I heard a slithering noise behind me, followed by a lisping voice. “Don’t move, sssstupid”. Slowly, I turned around.
Now, I’m not a snake expert. I had no idea if this was some old garden variety harmless snake or not. However, considering all that I had seen thus far, I wasn’t about to doubt it’s venomous abilities. So I froze.
“Go back and ssssssit down”, it ordered, “we’re not finished here.” I made my way back to the last station and sat down. The MFOYA snake started gliding away from me, but I knew that I was being watched, so I made no further attempt to escape.
I heard more whispered conversation, rising in intensity, and then softening again. I assumed it was discussion on what was to be done with me and the situation. Then it became deathly still.
Sneaking a glance towards the sound of the voices, I saw the eyes starting to advance towards me, all of them. I realized that I was about to meet MFOYA, all of it. It was at that moment that I wished I had followed my mother’s advice and become a schoolteacher. Sure, a class full of first-graders can be scary, but at least I would have known what I was dealing with.
Starting to feel woozy, I did the only thing I could do. I waited.
To Be Continued
The Clown spoke:
“First of all, I must tell you that I am not MFOYA. I am only one part of the MFOYA process. There are others; we have pooled our talents to spread MFOYA’s word. We were nomads, I guess you’d say. We really didn’t have a home. We’d go from site to site, but unfortunately, our intelligence and wit was just not understood, and we’d be told to leave. Kinda like Jesus, ya know?”
The MFOYA clown took another swig, and continued to speak.
“Finally, we thought we had found a home, with others of like mind. We settled in, and were comfortable for awhile. We made fun of the giraffe and traded information that we thought proved there was no relationship. We went back to the B Board, causing chaos whenever we could, and ridiculing the stupid people there. Then one day, it came crashing down. Pictures emerged that people said showed there was a true relationship. Our whole premise was destroyed. People began doubting other people, some people wanted to admit defeat. We couldn’t have that!”
MFOYA clown was silent for a minute. I could hear the swoosh of the raw sewage passing through the tunnel behind me. I took the time to look around me, and through the darkness I could see different pairs of eyes looking at me. There wasn’t enough light to discern anything else.
MFOYA clown spoke again.
“In secret talks, some of us decided that the board had become too populated by those who weren’t enlightened enough to understand what had to be done. So we did what needed to be done, we splintered off and shut it down. It was time to go public with what we knew, to spread the MFOYA word to the world. There was dishonesty happening all around them, and they needed to know the truth. We took some of the things that were on the old board, and started over. That was the birth of MFOYA.”
“We began slowly, making fun of posters on other sites, and ridiculing HER. It wasn’t working, we weren’t getting enough attention. A few people didn’t like what we were saying, but we needed many more people to listen to us. So that’s when we began the photochopping and comparisons. We needed people to be shocked, we needed them to look at us and listen to us. So, we had to go to the extreme. We started writing comments ourselves, to help create the buzz. It was working, people were looking.”
“However, once again we were at a crossroads. It wasn’t enough that his fans were watching us, we needed more. We needed his attention, we needed the world’s attention. We began to contact news agencies, trying to get our word out there. We phoned, we emailed, we wrote letters. Noone seemed to be interested. So we created even more pictures and more comments. Finally it happened, we had someone interested in talking to us.”
“We anticipated the moment, we were going to have MFOYA splashed in headlines across the nation! Our Time Had Come! Then the fools at Radar published that article, ridiculing US instead of focusing on the real issue. Stupid fools, even they could not see the truth. That’s all we want…is the truth”
MFOYA clown looked exhausted from it’s oration, and I thought I saw a tear start falling down it’s cheek.
“But, MFOYA, what is the truth”, I asked.
To Be Continued
A lot of thoughts swirl through your mind when you’re looking down the barrel of a gun. Most of them revolve around coming up with some superman-like manuever and getting the hell away from the situation. Unfortunately, none of them seemed plausible.
Instead, I waited for MFOYA’s next move. It motioned me towards yet another station further away from the opening. I tentatively made my way there, stepping over the MFOYA remains, may they rest in peace. There were 2 chairs and a table at this station. It motioned me to sit, which I did, because I didn’t see any other option. It sat across the table from me. For a few moments, silence hung in the air. Then it spoke.
“I’m sorry you had to see that. Unfortunately, in our world, sometimes we have to deal with people who are traitors. I apologize for that.”
I was shocked, because I guess I had expected to hear a mad person’s rambling and instead it spoke as if a haus frau apologizing for her messy house.
“Was it really necessary to kill them?”, I asked. I’m not sure what I expected it’s answer to be, but I decided stalling for time was my only chance.
“Sadly, yes. They knew too much and we just couldn’t take the risk. It’s not something that we want to do, but sometimes it’s just a necessary evil.”
Sensing MFOYA’s readiness to talk, I thought why not try to keep it going, maybe this would help me get out of the situation.
“Would you be willing to give me an interview? Tell me about MFOYA and it’s mission?”
“Of course. That’s why I allowed you to enter our headquarters in the first place. It’s time that the world knew the truth. We have been trying to get our story out there, but nobody has responded to us. We’ve tried the newspapers, magazines and television/radio shows, but we’ve been rebuffed each time. Well, there was that Radar piece, but they didn’t get it either. Instead, they were mocking us! Silly fools.”
“Well, I’m here and ready to listen. I can be the one to carry your message out into the world.”
MFOYA sat back and poured us each a drink, then began to speak.
To Be Continued….
Warning…contains graphic images
I recoiled at the sight of the boiled MFOYA heads. The cannibalistic display made my stomach protest and the calm professional manner I was attempting to show escaped me. I was no longer interested in finding out anything else about MFOYA, I had learned enough. I just wanted to make my escape as quickly as possible.
“That’s why we can’t leave”, said the trapped MFOYA, “If we try, it will kill us. Please, help us.”
Though my instinct was to save myself, I felt a twinge of conscience mixed with journalistic curiousity. If I released the MFOYA, maybe they would provide the information that I was looking for. I could write an expose on MFOYA, and finally receive the acknowledgement that I so craved for being a driving force in this process. I might even receive a phone call from “The Man”.
So, I did what any red-blooded reporter would do. I approached the monitor with a hammer, and told the MFOYA to step back. As I started to swing the tool towards the screen, an explosion rocked me off of my feet onto the cold floor.
As I cleared my head, I looked at the monitor, only to see that it was no longer there, but had shattered and strewed it’s inhabitants all over the floor. There would be no saving them now.
I turned towards the source of the explosion, only to recoil in pure horror. The last words my editor said to me before I left echoed in my head.
“Don’t take any wooden nickels, and never trust a clown with a gun.”
To Be Continued
The muffled sounds became a little clearer as I approached the next station. I could make out a few words…”over here”….”help”….”please”. As I walked up to the space, I saw a very messy desk, piled high with envelopes and paper, some finished and ready for mailing, others still floating loose. There were computers and various office equipment tucked in amongst the paper mountains.
I looked around the area, but didn’t see anyone, even though I could still hear someone calling out. I moved closer, and finally found the source of all the noise.
“Can you help us, please”.
“Who are you, and why are you in there?”, I asked.
“We are MFOYA, or at least we were in the beginning. We thought it was going to be just a little harmless fun. We didn’t know it was going to become this. It’s gotten out of control, and we want to leave, but we can’t.”
I was still trying to piece all of this together. The more that I saw, the more I was confused by the situation. “How long have you been in that place”, I asked.
“We come out everytime MFOYA needs us. We post comments on the blog under many screen names, we send emails to publications, we put together the letters to the tabloids…whatever is needed.”
“Why don’t you just leave. There’s no one here to stop you.”
Tiny little shrieks filled the air. “Oh, no, we can’t” “Eeeek” “I’m afraid” They ran into a huddled mass in the corner, and you could feel their terror in the air.
Finally, one of them came to the front of the screen. “We can’t leave, those that have tried haven’t succeeded and we know what happened to them.”
“What did happen?”
“Just turn around and look behind you.”
To Be Continued