The Hollow Man sits on the bare-
chested, bald man’s lap having his
mane stroked like a lap-dog. The

Hollow Man barks and the beige inter-
viewer with a bag of marshmallows
in her hand blanches, smiles timidly

and asks Marie Antoinette who sits
with her $1,600 red dress on, if the
Hollow Man bites. Not understanding

the question, Marie says as if plead-
ing for civil discourse, “Let them
eat cake,” quoting her favorite

Frenchwoman without attribution.
The children — boys with slicked
down, mobster style hair and girls

with well-quaffed, blond locks —
stand at attention while someone
off-stage far right calls, “Sig Heil,”

without attribution. The Hollow Man
barks, the children giggle nervously
and the bare-chested, bald-man states

with smirky bravado, “The Hollow Man’s
kingdom for a lame horse,” as a bad
paraphrase without attribution, while

millions of white people watching
and hoping to be beautiful and rich
just like the Hollow Man’s ever-so-

white family say, “We’re just one
misfortune away from being million-
aires,” without attribution.