Madea goes to Hell

The madea films are known by many to be some of the greatest landmark pieces of cinema in movie history. The list goes on. Wizard of Oz. Citizen Kane. A Madea Christmas. The woman, or man, whoever it is, is a genius. These are the highlights of the human experience, outlined by the quality writing, excellent cinematography, and the fact that Madea is a no-nonsense grandma with a heart of gold.

But- something strange happened when I went to see a madea movie this weekend. I thought it was called "A Madea Halloween." As in, the madea, celebrating Halloween. Boy, was I wrong. I can't tell you just how disheveled I felt walking into that theater, having forgotten to shower and shave for the past fifteen years of my life. But I, being a wealthy aristocrat and fine purveyor of quality cinematic cinema, prepared myself in a fancy tuxedo, suit, tie and bow link cuffs that I got from the local Golf-horse oxford fencing polo club.

I went to the theater. Got in line, bought my ticket. The owner of the theater was really sinister and started to scare me. "Dear boy!" He smiled, evilly. "What Madea film are you in the mood for today?!" He smiled a sinister smile. I looked at the marquee. "Madea goes to hell- 9:30" "Madea Goes to hell- 11:30" "Madea Goes to Hell- 2 p.m." My god! Every film on here was Madea goes to hell! "Kind of a crowded house tonight, eh?" I said to the theater operater. "Yes, some say this showing will be... a scream!" I don't get it. By crowded house, I meant that there were several homeless people blocking the door and this theater looked condemned. "Oh, it's condemned alright." The theater owner smiled as if reading my mind. "Condemned indeed!" He yelled. "Condemned!" Indeed, the interior was very old, looks like they were having some money troubles.

The floor was really hot and I noticed the temperature getting hotter as I entered. Well, I figured I could cool myself off with a cold and refreshing, bubbly drink from the concession  stand. But I noticed...something strange. All of the food items cost $6.66, except for the twin burritos, which each cost nine dollars and eleven cents.

I ordered the twin burritos, which were so scalding hot that I got third degree burns all over my hands as the cheese sauce entered my body. And the coca cola tasted like hot and fiery sulfur! Never mind that, it was time to watch Madea. Also, the thing at the concession stand looked like an angry druid. I'm not sure what that means.

I walked into any theater because they were all playing madea. There was an old man blocking the door, though. "Don't go in there." He said. "You'll lose your mortal soul to the river styx, cast out to the powers of the mighty madea, seventh anachronist archangel of the subterfuge combachrist librarian." "What are you talking about?!" I laughed. "Madea is a comedian, Tyler perry in drag, it's just fun and games!" The old man grew pale, his eyes became wide as kettles, and he slunk back into the shadows, as though he was never there to begin with.

I sat down in the front row. You may say that's too close for comfort, but you can never be too close to quality, in this case, a Madea film. However, another person came into the theater and sat right next to me. I got up and moved to another part of the theater. Wait a minute- was that Madea? In the theater?" Madea sat next to me, leering. "I'm not madea, I'm a madea lookalike. The real madea died several years ago in a movie theater." I was getting scared, I  mean, I was in a movie theater. "Besides, why would Tyler Perry be watching his own movie?" Madea opened up her purse, producing a big Heath Bar that she had snuck in. "And be sure to see Madea: Bases Loaded on December 23rd, and don't forgot all of those crazy antics I'll get into when I own my own major league team!" Madea produced a baseball, handed it to me, and snuck out of the theater.

The film started. There was a trailer for some weird movie about skeletons. Skeletons: The Motion Picture. Strange. Very odd. And then the movie started. You see madea walking down the road when she trips in front of a car and dies.

Then she goes to hell. You see her fall through the 200 circles of hell only to end up at the last circle: "MADEA!" A voice boomed. Satan. "YOU MUST REPENT FOR YOUR LYING WAYS!" Madea walks up and slaps the devil on the face with her handbag, knocking him over. Madea winks, turns into a cartoon and the credits play.

"BOO!" I yelled. "BOO!" I paid 11 of my own hard earned dollars on that?! That wasn't even the length of the trailer! I stormed out of the theater, stealing several boxes of Jujy Fruits, a family pack of twizzlers and all of the condoms in the bathroom machine, even though I would just make animal balloons with them later.

When I got home, someone had entered through the window. I noticed broken glass.

I stared into my living room, astonished and horrified. There, dressed in traditional madea garb, rocking back and forth on MY family rocking chair, was madea, knitting a sweater. "I see you have come to face the burden of mankind's selfish demise." Madea smiled, and continued rocking the chair. Rocking back and forth, almost hypnotically. "For man has learned his true weakness is in the hearts of those who-" "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I yelled. "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE MADEA!

I recalled the baseball that the other madea had given me in the theater. My grip tightened on it. "What is the meaning of this?!" I shook my ticket stub angrily, flustered, irritated and more than just a little peeved. "My dear boy." Madea smiled. "whatever do you mean? Madea goes many places. She may even end up in her next feature film: "Madea breaks into your home and murders you!" I had the feeling madea was going to murder me. Call it gut instinct, like when a dog instinctually knows to piss on your shoes. It was something like that- just- something I don't even understand.

"I'm- just going to check my shoe cabinet." I said. It was a lie. No one stores cabinets in shoes. I was reaching for my shotgun, conveniently stored next to my pants cabinet.

Madea grew more evil now, and I could see two red triangles like evil devil ears appearing around her wig. Then, a man appeared at my window and yelled something. It was that old man from earlier! "It's a doppelganger! Madea 2.0! Use the baseball!" He yelled. "The magic baseball!" Magic baseball- what the fuck. I had a goddamn shotgun. I cocked the shotgun, leering at Madea angrily. Not the real madea. Fake madea. The one that is not a grammy award winning writer, artist and professional producer of quality films. "You'll never kill me!" Evil Madea cackled. Her sinister smile was full of spiders, leprechauns, and various other haunted artifacts. "I have the power of HAIR on my side!" Tyler Perry ripped off her wig and threw it at me, on the floor. The wig skittered around violently, throwing lamps and furniture all over the linoleum floor.

I shot the wig in the face. Highly realistic hair-gore poured from the hollow realistic holes from the overly sensitive hairpiece. Madea grew more sinister now. Her eyes became red as firey hot coals and she got really upset with me. "I am irked! Lord have mercy!" She screamed.

Her eyes exploded and two very sinister serpents popped out of the holes. Her bug eyes rolled around deflated on the floor as the very floor beneath her began to burn away from her hooved feet! She leered angrily and flustered, demanded to be shown some respect and fell on the floor.

I called 9-1-1. While Madea was probably the right hand of lord Lucifer and a second child of the anachronistic dynasty in the seventh circle of hell, she still hadn't done anything warranting doing anything but shooting her wig.

I drove to the hospital to make sure that dear Madea was ok. In the waiting room, I noticed a copy of Time Magazine that said that Madea Goes to the Doctors was coming out soon. Strange. Anyway, when it was time, I entered the E.R. to join the bedside of dear unconscious madea.

"Doctor!" I screamed. "Please save grandmamma Madea! She's my only friend." "Oh." The doctor was turned around, so that I could only see his or her back. The doctor turned slightly, a familiar face smiled back at me. "I'll save grandmamma Madea." "MADE-A LOOK!" The doctor flipped around! It was madea! "Madea repairs a broken health care system." Madea smiled and took out a pineapple. "Madea Goes Hawaiin." Madea smiled and took out a plunger. "Madea goes to the Mushroom Kingdom!" Madea smiled, yet again, and took out a baseball bat. "Madea goes off on your punk ass, bitch." She stated firmly.

Suddenly I remembered the baseball from earlier. "No!" I screamed. "No!" As madea swung the bat at my jaw I produced the magical baseball, throwing it underhanded into the baseball bat.

Madea hit a grand slam! The baseball bat flew out the window at a fast and blinding speed! My god! Madea was a world series champion! The baseball later landed on the head of another evil madea who was shopping for gardening supplies just down the road. "Lordy lordy! I hit a grand slam in more ways than one!" And then, Madea took me to Denny's, and bought me the biggest stack of buttercream pancakes I had ever eaten in my entire life, with all the maple syrup that Denny's would allow.

Madea was later inducted into the baseball hall of fame for greatest bat ever conceived by human hands. She still lives with me, and we share an apartment together. I know- I know "Oh she tried to kill me!" Well republicans are trying to kill you, and you still vote for them. What's important is that we have a shared level of respect, a level love of buttercream pancakes, and a deep desire to fulfill our need for quality Madea films. Yes, she stabbed me a few times and YEAH we have our disagreements about subjects like murder, but evil madea is most known for her acts of theft. Evil Madea stole my heart.

As for the real Madea, some say it's just Tyler Perry in a wig, dancing and singing all the way to the money bank. That may be true, but if it is, that doesn't explain who these other madeas are. The murderous one. The friendly one. That guy in the theater, also madea, maybe. Rumors area it was a clone experiment by Tyler Perry, who so and so, and such, and such, and such. But in the end, the only thing that matters is that we're happy- and we have the biggest stack of buttercream baseball pancakes in the batting cage

The end.

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