Only months ago, we revealed the secret of one gay boy’s success: Freddie Mercury. The boy’s name: Adam Lambert. The media for revelation: American Idol.
I was just as shocked as millions of others to learn that somehow, the gay spectre Freddie Mercury had entered the body of Adam Lambert. All was the same: the amazingly driving vocals, the unprecedentedly flamboyant stage presence, the trademark gay sashay: all the tell-tell signs were there.
There was no way to explain Adam Lambert’s amazing and unfounded talent, and it was with great prejudice that American Idol forbade Lambert from winning. There was no way a mediocre Kris Allen could be considered a better musician than Freddie Mercury. There is just no way, aside from the rampant homophobia that’s present on liberal media cookie-cutter shows such as American Idol.
All may have thought the spectre of Freddie Mercury, who had finagled out of Hell, went back to where he belonged in the lowest reaches of lakefire, reserved only for the most unabashedly exuberant of frilly gays. All were wrong: Freddie Mercury is Back, and he resides in a new talent, one who is more likely commit acts of nasty flamboyancy and fierce fandango dances than any gay before. His name: Prince Poppycock.
The Spectre Passes Silently, From One to the Next
Like a careless whisper, the spectre of Freddie Mercury passed from Adam Lambert. Those who go to now see Lambert in concert say he lacks a certain pizazz, he is riddled with the same mediocrity as Kris Allen. He no longer illuminates the stage or even shows enough gay signs for me to condemn him: if not for the irrefutable revelation of Freddie Mercury inhabiting him, you would think he was a fraud gay, using it just to stimmy up headlines for himself.
As I have discovered and you will soon see, Freddie Mercury did not fizzle out with a loser. Nay, my friends, his gay demon still walks the Earth, eerily preying upon young boys who enter reality tv show talent competition. Mercury’s lust for stage presence and crowd adoration is endurant, insatiable. And today, we look upon his new vessel, his vicarious medium for gratification:
Originally born a young man of silent and whisping origins, Prince Poppycock began to appear at night — a questionable spirit’s favorite time to play — clearly showing two side’s to this young man’s coin.
Was it Freddie Mercury all along, or do inhabiting gay spirits do something akin to a time share, residing in the host’s body for but a season? This all remains a mystery and unconfirmed, as Adam Lambert and Prince Poppycock have only gained notoriety in recent months. What is known is that Prince Poppycock fully emerges within this young man!
Since Prince Poppycock’s debut on American Idol’s sister show, America’s Got Talent, many suspected something was afout, it was afoot. Something was just not right about this dancing minstrel, just by looks and name alone.
And then, he sang. My heart dropped and a chill went down my spine: a red flag went up, and the gay terror report made me think one thing: Freddie Mercury is on the prowl once more.
Critics critiqued my stance, saying it was foundless and without merit. There were no obvious signs that Prince Poppycock and Freddie Mercury were all in the same, as we had seen with Lambert. There was a sign, though: in my gut, and in my spiritual man. There was something foul about Poppycock, he was just too good and vocally talented to not be a ringer.
When a man can sing like Prince Poppycock, at his age, it’s just not right. Think about it. Think of all the good male operatic concerto singers: Pavorotti, Domingo, Carusas and the other guy from the Three Tenors. These men had a certain build about themselves, big burly bodies that can obviously produce a hearty tone. Ask any otolaryngologist: the scrawny body of Prince Poppycock could never do such things, it could never produce such rich tones without some sort of genetic fluke, or far more likely considering his caliber of talent, an inhabitation.
Still, how can we be so sure that this is Freddie Mercury, possessing another young man on a talent show. Last week, on America’s Got Talent, my suspicions and all of our questions were answered.
Prince Poppycock, a shadow cloth puppet for Freddie Mercury, came out and displayed his true-self. Mercury could not resist the urge to let people know, in an act of typically subtle gay posturing, that he was back. It was his stage. He was once again the star.
Freddie Mercury, possessing this time a young man under the guise of Prince Poppycock, secretly performed his greatest song, Bohemian Rhapsody. He chose the biggest stage on Earth to do it. Here is the shocking performance, and the possession is now obvious. Prince Poppycock is the vessel, Freddie Mercury has returned.