Jennifer, my dear…

…I thought we were friends.

At least I’d hoped we’d be that way when we finally met, on Venice Boulevard, in front of all of your “real life” friends.

I guess you just don’t see it that way.

I guess to you the lot of us are ‘just fans.’ Not suitable to have even a coffee or a chat with.

I guess to you we’re just rungs on a totem pole. Steps on a ladder. I thought, at least, you wouldn’t continue to violate a DIRECT ORDER from Mother Nature to

Alas, you took it to mean US and not YOU GUYS UP THERE.

Wait, can you even hear me when I’m speaking in such a soft tone of voice?

I MEAN, DID YOU THINK WE SHOULD DO IT BUT NOT YOU,

MS. ANY ROLE SHE LIKES?

I MEAN, *IF* SHE CAN AFFORD ONE OF THE ACTUAL PLANET SAVING VEHICLES…YOU KNOW, TO ADD TO SPOKESMANSHIP TO SOME DEGREE AND MAKE IT EASIER RATHER THAN HARDER FOR A SYSTEM SLAVE LIKE ELON MUSK TO DO THE JOB OF SAVING OUR ASSES.

AFTER ALL, YOU’RE DOING THE HARDER PART. THE ENTERTAINMENT PART.

…

my bad

…

{steps down from stage}