Dear Carson,I just wanted to let you know I was behind you all the way. I'm openly rooting for you to be the hunks' representative in the final two. I want to it be you in the airplane hangar, facing Anna and waiting for a verdict you don't particularly care about, excepting that it means you'd win and the last remaining AJ would lose. I want you to get as much screen time as possible, and the only way to do that is make it to the end. I really want to hear you trot out a few more lines and play a mind game or three. I even want to know which nightclubs you work for. And I desperately hope the ratings for the series start going up, so even more people will get to know you, too.
Because that's the single best way to make your life miserable.
You see -- you may not have noticed this, and I realize it may come as something of a shock to you -- but you're a jerk. And that's putting it mildly to get it within board standards. What you actually are is a (censored) (censored) (censored with extreme prejudice), and you actively revel in it. You are one of those people who has allowed their looks, attitude, and muscle mass to carry them through life with no regrets and nothing in the way of consequences. And somehow, you've never had the chance to learn one of the most basic lessons: when your chief joy in life is torturing small animals in tight corners, eventually, you're going to get a mongoose. And if you're lucky, there will be exactly enough left of you to crawl away.
I've met your type before, mostly in true crime stories centered around sociopaths. For you to do anything you like to other things (since you can't think of anyone else as real) is your birthright: for them to put up the smallest show of resistance is a crime against humanity, but at least it's a short trial since you're the only human on the planet. I didn't like Dante before last night. I thought he was annoying and immature and was basically there just to fill out some camera time with childish antics. Do you know what you did for him? You made him into a hero. The second he kissed you, took you completely out of your little world for a split-second and into a place where you no longer had control, he became the role model for anyone who's had to face down someone stronger than they were. It only doubled when he wrestled you without fear. You gave Dante his social life, and I'm sure you'd be kicking yourself for years if you hadn't already decided that it never happened.
I know. You're going to say you were told to act like this, to be the biggest jerk you could be, to go in there with full acting skills on display and an attitude borrowed from a thousand frat house movies. I just don't think you're that good an actor, let alone that bright. You haven't managed to improve on the games you liked to play in junior high. You know -- 'She likes you', 'She doesn't really like you', and for the girls, 'That guy thinks you're hot. Go talk to him!' I wouldn't be surprised if you'd gotten a bucket of pigs' blood arranged on a rafter two or three times. I believe you are exactly what's been shown in main airtime, and if, somehow, you're not, I believe you have no competition for the Emmy this year. But you are, you are...
I know this won't affect your social life to any real degree. Yes, attractive women watch this show, and they'll see you, and they'll reject you forever after -- the bad boy attaction isn't universal, y'know -- but that's not the type you're interested in, anyway. You're not a heterosexual. You're not even a homosexual. You're a monosexual. The only person you're attracted to is yourself, and every time you're with someone, your thoughts are on how lucky she is to be with you, and how you wish you were her just so you could have the experience of being with yourself. Support cloning now, even if you can't spell it.
But from now on, your mainstream life will be more difficult. People are going to remember you, and the way they treat you will be based on that memory. You will be shunned, left behind, pushed aside. Fewer people will come to your nightclubs. You'll have trouble getting supplier contracts renewed, and good luck landing acts. And with every episode you stay, it'll get a little worse, spread to a few more people -- and it will last the rest of your life. Each day will find you subject to a thousand acts of hatred and disgust, some subtle, many untracable, and all unstoppable. You won't even be able to intimidate your way out of it, because the males will kiss you, and the women will just walk away -- if you're lucky. And there will be many times when you won't be, because you are now and forever outnumbered by people who know exactly who and what you are, and you can never hide again. You're nothing but a paper tiger, Carson, and you've shown everyone exactly where to put the match.
I would be happy to say this to your face at any time, and if you responded in the way I expect you to, I would be happy to start by castrating you.
It would be a honor to be your mongoose.
Good luck on the show.
Email this topic to a friend
Printer-friendly version of this topic
Bookmark this topic (Registered users only)
Ferociously purrfected by thndrkttn
