"Fruities" follows the exploits and hijinks of four fabulous friends who, although not gay, are just a bit closer than many men are likely to be comfortable with.

"It's a socially important film," says Dana Michelle [sic] of his directing debut. "It seems like only yesterday that fruitcakes were an up-and-coming part of the social conversation. But they've been steamrolled by the LGBTQ movement and don't even have a seat at the table anymore."

Robby Flowers, himself a fruit as well as an avid Netflix viewer, agrees. "No one cares about us," he says. "Politicians. Corporations. Comedians haven't made fun of us in years. What, because I know which fucking bathroom to use, I'm less than?"

Robby's roommate, Sandy, who according to Robby is "hands-down the biggest drama queen ever," isn't quite as pissy about it. The amateur art collector can't wait to see the movie about the four platonic pals who share a one-bedroom apartment, with a queen-sized bed, overlooking the beach. Sandy feels that it's a great plot and he is "so excited I could just scream."

"But OMG," Sandy cautions, "if it isn't the greatest show ever, I swear to God I'm just going to die."

Michelle makes very clear that the show does not target the LGBT demographic and so shouldn't be controversial.

"Fruits aren't gay. They're just... fruity," says the director. "Hetero men that are comfortable hugging each other or sleeping in the same bed, maybe even in a spoon position."

But not everyone is as open-minded. Butch Craven, the heavily tattooed motorcycle aficionado that lives in the apartment adjacent to Robby and Sandy, "don't need to see no fags prancing around on my TV."

"It just ain't right," said Craven, as his friend stood behind him and mouthed the words: "he's gay."