ALL RIGHT, THAT'S IT
We're done talking, Poindexter.
I've had you UP TO HERE.
I've stood still for your attacks, lies, overcharges, slanders, betrayals, backstabbing, misquotes, and plagiarisms;
But when you ventured upon Insult, I determined on my revenge.
Are you listening closely?
Y o u k n o w w h o y o u a r e.
You can no longer hide behind charges of sponsored disinformation.
Your solecisms lie exploded on the field of public argument,
your headcanons reek of habitual drug use, to put it kindly,
your tangled connections to below-the-line pizza parlors nationwide shriek of long-term involvement in the unnameable,
your few remaining Party connections are subject to travel bans and religious anathemas, if not ongoing investigations by Fox and the Daily Mirror,
your stepchildren have organized a nonprofit corporation to combat the dissemination of your wry-mouthed, twisted opinions,
your blithering attempt to issue a synthesis in six volumes of the epistenological justifications for your "Refutation of Personal Guilt" led to the utter devastation of seven new-growth forests and a complete lack of acknowledgement in any English-speaking media except the Onion.
You are the supreme slavering Hyena of educated discourse in the new millennium, except that the howls of laughter arise on all sides, around and about - not from you.
Your options are gone.
Lest you be willing that I - yes, I personally - should move the fateful levers of powerful Influence to complete your annihilation, denying you bread, water, and salt within five kilometers of any human habitation on planet Earth, you must immediately commence, and continue throughout the short span allowed you, the only possible method of remediating a lifetime of atrocious intellectual errors:
Collect in one cesspit everything you have ever disseminated to the public, written, spoken, posted, by e-mail or text or DM, scribbled on cocktail napkins, by smoke signal or Morse code, smuggled into the brainless jacket blurbs you supplied puling novice authors, for a fee; everything. Then, crawl through it from beginning to end, with the utmost perspicacity and stubborn attention to small distinctions; and assemble in print, with a No. 2 lead pencil, on the back of the millions of sheets of discarded drafts and proofs crammed into your hidey-hole, the absolutely complete, perfectly logical, and utterly irrefutable refutation of everything you have ever said, claimed, mentioned, opined, hazarded, proposed, mumbled, or thought on any topic including the weather. The completeness of this act of refutation must, for example, include the denial of your own name and physical existemce. Once the complete testament is in my hands, I will further consider your fate.
But the critical. primary requirement for your redemption, to be fulfilled at the very start of this your last confession, is to state clearly this incontrovertible fact and don't try answering back::
TOLKIEN WAS QUEEN ELIZABETH
