"This is racial discrimination!"
As soon as Spike Lee said those words, everyone's perception was instantly refreshed. A black man accusing another, even darker black man, of discrimination—could anything be more ridiculous?
Because of his words, everyone on-site was momentarily stunned.
In that brief moment, Gilberto Silva threw the third egg, which whizzed through the air toward Spike Lee.
In recent years, this black director had been flaunting his black face with arrogance. He had never suffered such a loss. Despite the stench worse than fermented manure nearly making him faint, he still pointed at Gilberto Silva, ready to curse.
Other than ranting, he couldn't do anything else.
Spike Lee's mouth was wide open. Even with the rotten egg obscuring his eyes, he straightened his back as if he were about to unleash another tirade. Just as he was about to speak, the egg hit.
Originally aimed at his forehead, Spike Lee's straightened posture caused the egg to strike his front teeth instead.
Smack—
The egg, stored for who knows how many months or years, shattered, and the blackened egg white and yolk flowed into Spike Lee's mouth.
Gag—
The next second, Spike Lee couldn't hold it anymore. He bent over and knelt on the floor, vomiting.
The smell, ten times stronger than manure, was too overpowering. Matthew unconsciously covered his nose. Even though there was some distance between him and Spike Lee, the stench was unbearable.
He seriously doubted if Spike Lee might actually pass out from the smell...
The last egg had gone straight into Spike Lee's mouth and shattered. That rancid taste could probably send Spike Lee flying.
"Look!" someone in the audience shouted, "Spike Lee is kneeling to Matthew and apologizing."
The crowd immediately burst into laughter.
Spike Lee was kneeling on the floor, vomiting, directly opposite Matthew. It looked exactly like he was kowtowing.
Finally, some staff rushed in and stopped Gilberto Silva. Silva didn't resist, just spat fiercely in Spike Lee's direction before cooperatively following the staff out.
Oprah was both crying and laughing. Especially Spike Lee's last words had utterly blown her mind. Who knew people could be so shameless?
As soon as the black guy rushed to throw the eggs, she quickly used the mic pinned to her collar to inform the director to cut to commercials. Luckily, since the Justin Timberlake and Janet Jackson scandal at the Super Bowl, all live shows in the USA had a delay of five to ten seconds, giving the director enough time to react.
Even so, Spike Lee's accusation of racial discrimination against another black man went out with the broadcast signal.
Oprah instructed the backstage team to handle Spike Lee and bring in a doctor. She also shook her head privately. Spike Lee's disgraceful performance had been broadcast to thousands of homes; they needed to find a way to spin this.
In a short time, the director informed her that complaint calls were already coming in, protesting the show's decision to feature such a scumbag like Spike Lee.
Audiences were easily influenced by public opinion but were not fools. A black man accusing another black man of racial discrimination? How credible was anything he said about racial discrimination?
With the situation unfolding live, Oprah felt she could speak openly about certain things.
Spike Lee, overwhelmed by the rotten eggs, was carried out. Doctors would take care of him backstage. Oprah had no intention of stopping the show, as it was clear this episode would be a hit.
In just two or three minutes, the stage was cleaned up, leaving only Matthew and Oprah.
The show was nearing its end.
After the commercial break, the live feed returned to the stage. Oprah, informed by the director, said, "Racial discrimination is a social scourge, but as everyone just saw..."
Standing for justice meant thoroughly discrediting Spike Lee, "Some individuals exploit racial issues to achieve their hidden agendas rather than genuinely fighting for minority rights. While we strive to eliminate racial discrimination, we must also guard against such people."
After speaking, Oprah walked over to Matthew. He stood up, and Oprah gave him her famous Oprah hug.
"You've endured a lot of pressure and slander recently. It's not easy." Oprah, letting go of Matthew, stood beside him, appearing particularly kind and empathetic, "Fortunately, you persevered and attained fairness and justice."
Matthew nodded, "I have always believed in the goodness in our world."
Oprah, receiving a time cue from the director, asked, "What are your thoughts on this incident?"
Matthew thought for a moment, then said, "The film '300 Spartans' has suffered from undue criticism because of Spike Lee. This has made me reflect more deeply on the movie."
He paused, facing the live audience, then said, "We don't make films for the industry or for a specific group of people. We make films for the audience, for you."
The audience erupted in applause, with Oprah joining in enthusiastically.
The show concluded amidst the applause, which continued even as it reached backstage, where it entered a break room.
Spike Lee had washed his face and rinsed his mouth. He had his agent, James Jackson, send away the show's staff and the doctor. Sitting on the couch, he still felt the foul taste in his mouth, making his head swim.
"This is racial discrimination!" Spike Lee instinctively waved his hand, "This is racial discrimination!"
James Jackson quickly shouted, "Spike! Spike!"
Whether it was the unbearable stench or Jackson's words, Spike Lee stopped.
"Don't talk about racial discrimination anymore," James Jackson patiently advised, "No one will believe your claims of racial discrimination now."
He softened his tone, "Let's focus on the movies again."
Spike Lee was stunned, recalling the recent events. Was his nearly twenty-year position as Hollywood's top troublemaker... no, top freedom fighter, destroyed just like that?
Without the race card to play, without stirring up trouble based on skin color, what was he as a director?
"I want to sue them!" As the top troublemaker in the race agitation army, Spike Lee couldn't just give up, "I want to sue them!"
He thought of the law as his next weapon.
Upon hearing this, James Jackson remembered a call he received earlier and said, "Matthew Horner and Sky Dance Films have already sued you for defamation. I just received the notice. The subpoena will be in your office tomorrow."
"What?" Spike Lee's eyes widened.
Not far from the break room, Matthew had just removed his makeup. He dismissed his makeup artist and asked Helen Herman, "Any news from the court?"
"Yes," Helen Herman nodded, "The subpoena should reach Spike Lee within the next two days."
She pondered and added, "This show will work in our favor."
Matthew snorted, "Then let's engage in a long legal battle with him. We'll bury him with money! Competing over wealth with us..."
Spike Lee's director income couldn't compare to his, and this case primarily involved David Ellison, who had deep pockets and could find the best lawyers.
Many wealthy people played this way, dragging their opponents to death.
"By the way," Matthew asked, "Is Spike Lee still here? Ask the crew; I want to see him."
Helen Herman immediately became alert, "What are you planning?"
Matthew spread his hands, "What can I do? Just want to pay him a visit." Suddenly thinking of the black guy who threw the eggs, he added, "Talk to Oprah's team and ensure they don't trouble that guy on stage."
Helen Herman nodded, "I'll handle it."
She left the dressing room and returned in less than five minutes. Not only had she dealt with the guy who threw the eggs, but she also found out where Spike Lee was.
Matthew stood up, "Let's go see Spike."
He opened the dressing room door and walked out. Helen Herman quickly followed, asking again, "What are you going to do?"
Matthew, walking, replied, "Spike Lee is the most disgusting, crazy, inhumane scoundrel I've ever met. I want to provoke him a bit and see if he'll take a swing at me. Then I can beat him up."
"You're so childish." Helen Herman didn't take him seriously since Matthew wasn't heading toward Spike Lee.
Of course, Matthew wasn't that childish. He went to the backstage office, greeted the director and other staff, exchanged pleasantries, chatted briefly with Oprah, and then left the Harper Productions studio, heading back to the hotel.
"Helen," Matthew said in the car, watching the scenery pass by the window, "This is just the beginning."
This incident might seem absurd, but more absurd things had happened in Hollywood. Even if the charge of racial discrimination wasn't confirmed, the mere suspicion could lead to exclusion in this increasingly left-leaning industry. It might be an exaggeration to say he wouldn't get any work, but his competitiveness under similar conditions would undoubtedly decline.
Matthew withdrew his gaze and asked, "Who else was involved this time?"
Helen Herman, understanding the seriousness of the situation, thought for a while and said, "Spike Lee, Naomi Harris, Paula Patton, Francis Lawrence, Jada Smith, and her husband Will Smith, and... Vin Diesel. The rest are minor figures you don't need to worry about. I'll take care of them."
"Oh..." Matthew was silent for a moment, then said, "I'm a very vengeful person. Revenge, even after ten years, is not too late."
The car stopped in front of the hotel, marking the end of a busy day.
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