Boogie Crackerjack’s parents invested thousands of dollars in transforming their sweet little three-year-old daughter into a pageant champion.
They waxed her eyebrows, smeared rouge on her cheeks, dressed her in revealing attire, and taught her a number of provocative dances.
Her mother, whose looks were fading fast, took vicarious pleasure in her daughter’s victories.
“Can you believe it? A grand talent winner at age three,” she bragged to the bitter old hens in her pancakes-and-prayer circle.
Her father wasn’t sure why this mattered so much to his wife. However, like most failed professional athletes, he refused to let his daughter settle for second place.
As Boogie piled triumph atop triumph, her fame grew and she attracted legions of admirers. Although most of these people would never meet her, the airbrushed images on her fan page filled their souls with ineffable joy.
“I wish I were as beautiful as you,” wrote a thirtysomething housewife from Iowa. “You’re a goddess, Boogie.”
One especially devoted Photoshop bricoleur rendered a disturbing image of Boogie with capped adult teeth and the hint of a bustline. Some of her fans savaged this photograph, but others rushed to his defense.
“It’s a glitz retouch,” explained one supporter. “It’s meant to be glamorous, not realistic.”
Cocooned in protective self-absorption, Boogie never spent any time reflecting on the career that been chosen for her. Instead, she embraced her talents and became a renowned entertainer, recording such insipid, tuneful hits as “U + Bling (Sweet),” “Kissy Face XOXO,” and “Ur Everything 2 Me.”
Deep in the tiny part of her brain where her remaining human feelings hid, what was it like? Was it cold in there; was it lonely? Did she remember when she was three years old? How had it been for her? And her fragile heartstrings—could they still be plucked?
“I want to thank God for my blessed life,” she said to Maggie McCleary during their primetime interview special. “He has made me the girl and the lady I am today.”