I recruited my daughter and my The Haitian to assist me in the process.
Let's get to the auditions!
First up, a young up-and-comer from...the backwoods.
"Hello, sirs and lady," he said politely. "I'm so honored to be here. Thank you for this wonderful opp-"
"Next!" I shouted.
"Ugh! Gah, Daddy," my Claire Bear whined. "You, like, didn't even, like, listen to him and stuff."
"She speaks true," The Haitian added.
I leaned over to him and said, "You need to speak in Ghetto."
"But I am not from the Ghetto," he replied. "I am from Haiti."
"That's why it's called acting!" I rubbed my forehead. "Surrounded by idiots," I whispered into my mic and the audience broke out into laughter. As the guffaws died down, I said to The Haitain, "Just speak fake Ghetto."
"..." he responded.
"Um, this alot of fun and everything," the contestant began, "but should I be getting you guys coffee or something?"
"Decaf," I ordered, "Cream, sugar, sprinkles if you got 'em."
"Yes, sir!" he shouted with an enthusiastic clap. Then, he hurried off stage.
The next contestant took his place.
"Hello," she said. "I am Hoda Kotb."
"Hello," The Haitian replied. I glanced over at him. With a sigh, he continued, "What be up with you girl, yo, yo, yo, shizzle." He looked back over at me for approval, and I simply nodded.
"I want to join the Masters of Evil," she explained.
"Why is that?" I asked.
"Because I want to kill Kathy Lee Gifford!" She began laughing maniacally, then quieted down and appologized for the outburst.
"Oh. My. God. You are, like, weird," Claire said.
"She's the weird one!" Hoda complained. "She's psychotic! She does things to me, terrible things!"
Security quickly dragged her off the stage.
"Well, she was rather loopy," I commented. The audience began laughing once again.
After interviewing several more losers, the first contestant finally returned with my coffee.
"Here you are, sir," he said, handing it to me.
"Thanks, Steven," I replied, taking the cup from him.
"What?" I asked sternly.
"Or Steven. Usually, it's Kenneth, though."
"Next!" I yelled as I shooed Steveth away with my hand.
"Hi there!" the bimbo said cheerfully. "I'm Kathie Lee Gifford and I just like being on television." She then whispered to me, "I'm not really evil or a master."
Before I could insult her stupidity and call for the next contestant, she was viciously tackled by a crazed-Hoda.
"Claire, cover your eyes!" I commanded.
Claire pulled out her cell phone and aimed it at the fighting females, "This is going on YouTube, like, totally!"
The Haitian stared. "..."
The audience cheered enthusiastically.
A terrified Steveth, or whoever he is, ran for cover.
"This is not only great television," I commented, "but the winner will be a perfect candidate for entry to the Masters of Evil!"
Unfortunately, as the fight drew to an end, both Hoda and Kathie Lee were badly beaten. They both fell to the ground in defeat. We watched as they slowly bled to death. The audience laughed hysterically.
"Oh, my!" Steveth said coming out of hiding. "What happened?" He surveyed the horrific scene before him. "These two sleeping women really made a mess of this place. Someone ought to clean it up."
"Congratulations," I said to him. "You've won. Your first assignment in the Masters of Evil is to dispose of these sleeping women so they can continue to rest without being found, uh, I mean, disturbed. Well, get to cleaning!"
"Yes, sir!" he replied.