"How DARE you change anyone without their permission!"
Madame Illusia and the crowd turned to see another pampered, entitled black woman pushing through the crowd - full of self-righteousness and woke cause, but clueless as to any idea of what real suffering was herself - that was the burden of her ancestors. Her hands knew no work, her feet didn't ache with the burden of slavery. She was the new, liberated spoiled brat that so many of her race who truly bore the brunt of the horrors of slavery would cringe to see if they were alive today - unearned entitlement, unearned privilege, unearned voice; mercifully, those noble ancestors who truly did suffer were not alive to see the travesty that too many of her young generation had become.
"And who might you be?" Madame Illusia asked as the woman walked right up to the stage and stood in front of her, turning around so 'her' audience could see her.
"I am Brandi. And this witch turned my sister into one of the very oppressors who enslaved my ancestors. This is a horrible bigot insults my people with her racism and ARF ARF!” Brandi kept barking, and the crowd started laughing. When it became clear she wasn’t going to stop, the Madame took her voice away altogether so she could get a word in.
“Act like a bitch, BE a bitch.” Madame Illusia said with a chuckle. “Now, perhaps I can address her accusations.”
The crowd applauded – and there were plenty of blacks applauding too. Not everyone was part of the woke nonsense that the media loved to shove down everyone’s throats – they knew it was simply the latest propaganda that actually had very little to do with race and equality at all.
“Little miss sunshine here forgot to mention that her and her sister’s families were actually slave OWNERS...” The audience gasped, and when things quieted down, Madame Illusia continued. “Yes, it is true that some blacks were not only free, but owned slaves as well. But some people don’t like to talk about that little detail, and like to milk their own sense of importance and entitlement based on the merits of their race alone – while attacking the innocent based on their race alone. I could read Jasmine’s past, and I can read Brandi’s past too. And anyone with a brain can see they suffer from a severe case of entitlement and that they haven’t lifted a single finger to help anyone but themselves.”
Madame Illusia petted Brandi’s head as though the girl was already the dog she would soon be. “The world needs fewer bitches like her and her sister. I say if she’s going to be a bitch, I make her a real one – at least that way she will be loyal to someone besides herself and bring another person joy.”
“Here here!” The crowd shouted in unanimous approval.
“I looked into Justin’s past as well before helping him make peace with himself. That’s the advantage of magic, you never have to guess about anybody. His family never owned slaves – and in fact some of his ancestors were enslaved as well. His grandparents were dirt poor and actually worked for Jasmine’s ancestors – who treated them cruelly. So things are not always as they appear. The saying ‘You can’t always judge a book by it’s cover’ has existed this long with good reason.”
Madame Illusia turned to Brandi, and with a magic flourish and a puff of smoke, she transformed into a little, big-eyed lap dog. She looked to a tall, black man in the back, calling, “Jerome, please come up here.” The man looked at her, putting his hands to his chest as if to say, ‘Me?’ and she smiled encouragingly. “Yes, Jerome, it’s okay, please come up.”
Jerome made his way through the audience, someone helped the man up on stage – the middle-aged man had a cane to help him walk.
Madame Illusia smiled kindly at him. “You served our country and were wounded in war. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your service and sacrifice.”
Jerome nodded respectfully. “Thank you, Madame.”
“You have a little girl, do you not?”
“Cassie,” he answered smiling. “My little superstar.”
“Truly she is,” Madame Illusia agreed. “You are raising her well. And she wanted a little puppy so much. Please take Brandi to give to your little Cassie. I know she will be kind to the dog. Under her bed you will find an enchanted dog dish. It will always have fresh food in it and never run out, and the dog will have health and long life so that you need not worry about vet bills. Money will always appear in your account to cover any bills related to the dog, to the very penny.”
Jerome got emotional. “Thank you so much, Madame Illusia. Cassie has wanted a dog for so long, but we couldn’t afford one. This will be a dream come true for her.”
“It is my pleasure, my gentle man,” Madame Illusia smiled, putting her hand on his leg, on his heart, then on his head. “You are healed. You will have no more limp, no more pain, and no more depression. And I think all of us join together in thanking you for your service, sir.”
Madame Illusia stood up straight in front of him, tilting her head down in a show of respect. The crowd followed her lead. Jerome saluted, fighting back tears. The Madame’s assistant took Jerome’s cane as he realized the pain was gone and he could stand fine without it, replacing it with a very well-behaved little dog for the man’s daughter.
The audience cheered for Jerome, a true American hero.