The Shocking Truth Behind Justin Bieber Brand Nail Polish
The big news in all the music and nail polish blogs this week was the announcement that Justin Bieber would begin distributing a series of nail polishes based upon his music. On the surface this seems to be a mundane attempt to capitalize on his fanbase (young girls with ugly fingernails) and their needs. But here at Cracked, perched atop our commitment to fabricated journalism like some kind of hilarious raven, we wondered if there might be more to the story than that. And, after a bit of fabrication, it turns out there was.____It was around 11:00pm on a brisk autumn night when I approached the main entrance of Bieber Industries, a massive complex located in the city's arts/heavy industrial district. At the entrance stood a guard, large and disinterested. "Hello," I said blandly, playing it cool. "Just heading inside on regular business."The guard nodded. "What's in the sack?" he asked, gesturing at the large sack I was carrying over one shoulder."Solvents," I said, with a shrug."Fair enough."Silently thanking a country where the concept of "pride in your work" had long since grown flaccid and floppy, I watched him open the main gate for me. Walking inside the complex, I picked a building at random, and strode towards it confidently. I swung my sack around nonchalantly, trying to flesh out my "guy who belongs in an industrial complex" character in case I crossed paths with anyone else.Entering the building, I stopped to get my bearings. It appeared to be a modern, automated production facility, set up for producing nail polish. To my right was the beginning of the production line, where the raw ingredients for the nail polish were being mixed. As expected, I saw the usual mix of resins, adhesives, plasticizers and pigments being mixed together, along with the ingredients that made this polish Bieber-specific, including sparkles, thousands of young girls' tears, and juiced koala bears. The ingredients were funneled down pipes and chutes, and all met in a central tank, where a solitary figure was slowly mixing it by hand with a big wooden paddle. Having fully donned my "industrial-complex belonging fella" persona, I marched right up to the figure and said chummily, "How's things going? Any dark secrets that the outside press must never hear about?"The figure turned around, a surprised look on his face, though I'd wager no less surprised than my own. For indeed I was staring into the face of Justin Bieber himself."Oh my god! Are you a Bieber-clone? Are you one of a thousand Bieber-clones? Did an evil senator order the creation of you in anticipation of wiping out the Jedi?" I struggled to catch my breath. "Holy shit what a scoop!" The Justin Bieber clone shook his head. "No, I'm the real Justin Bieber."I wrinkled my brow, confused. "But that doesn't make any sense. Why would you be working here, doing the job of a robot? An immigrant robot even. I would have thought you'd be out touring. Or enjoying the trappings of your success?" The non-cloned Genu-Bieber snorted. "The trappings of my success?""Yes man! Teenage girls!