Where, oh where did all the good men go?
Behind the screen*
*someone calls out ?
Shrinking into the flesh pixels
They're playing sardines back there,
Gathering as they go,
Lou finds Keith
and Keith, David
and David, Austin,
and Austin, Bart,
and so on,
and so forth
Until you find the right pin,
or pick away enough at the MDF
(modern digital frameworks)
Which of course I have,
*beep* ACCESS GRANTED *beep*
red ----> green
We poke our heads round the pop-up
| "behind the scenes"
in the VIP green
screen ||| room
Here they are,
Sipping on their bloody Marys,
Janes and whichever other defected avatar
they picked up at the local dump:
(Users/Ricky Gervais/David Brent/David Brent on the Road/
Terrified of the reality of skin and shit and spit,
Existing as mythical creatures in the depths of YouTube,
and forming alternative skins
of silicone, sweat and shame
"Easier to be a cardboard cut-out, if you ask me."
"Well, Austin Powers,
-- pseudonym: Michael Myers --
No one did bloody well ask you !!!!!!!!"
Honestly, I don't blame them.
"Go into hiding whilst you can lads
For retribution holds a carefully honed knife
and she ain't afraid of slicing your sweet little cheeks
for her bacon sarnie.