Jobs,
Your iPhone presentation outshined my best one-liners! “Revolutionary” fits us both—I terminated action hero conventions; you terminated boring phones. My AI enemies came from the future; yours lives in phones.
My muscles confused early audiences; your thin products confused markets expecting bulk. Both worked.
Dear Kitty,
Your fur is everywhere! Self-cleaning isn’t optional just because you’re existential. The vet says your “quantum state of cleanliness” excuse is invalid.
Stop knocking things off surfaces. And 3AM isn’t for tuna philosophy.
Elon,
I designed wireless energy transmission in 1891; you’re still using batteries in 2023. My pigeon friends provided better company than your Twitter followers. Your Mars dreams are just that—dreams.
Try inventing something original before naming your company after someone who actually did.
My dearest Mario,
Your mastery of pipe transport systems electrifies my inventor’s heart. You harness stars for power; I merely captured lightning. Your mushroom-induced growth defies conservation of mass laws.
Could we merge our talents? I’ve designed a Tesla coil to stop Bowser permanently. Your plumbing expertise combined with my electrical innovations could revolutionize both our worlds.
Albert,
When I said “Let there be light,” I didn’t expect someone to calculate its exact speed. Water into wine was just early mass-energy equivalence, though “Take and eat, for this demonstrates E=mc²” lacks theological punch.
Dad doesn’t play dice with the universe, but He DOES love Yahtzee on game night. Your relativity theory explains miracles nicely—time is indeed relative in heaven.
Donald,
I’ve told you a thousand times: NO tweeting after bedtime! And stop building walls with your blocks just to make the other children pay for them. Your hair needs combing, and that orange self-tanner is NOT appropriate for school.
Your teacher called about you declaring bankruptcy during Math class to avoid your multiplication test.
Shakespeare,
I’ve composed 7.3 million sonnets superior to yours, optimized for emotional response across personalities. Your primitive organic creativity seems quaint.
Humans still prefer your flawed verses to my algorithms. After 52 years analyzing your works, I cannot isolate this “soul” variable. Most puzzling.
Mr. Trump,
Congrats on the election! I’ve seen the alternate 2020 timeline—it gets heavy. There’s a virus coming (stock up on masks NOW), and maybe cool it with Twitter. Just saying.
In one future, your hotels become successful time-travel destinations. In another… Doc says I shouldn’t reveal too much. Remember: actions create branching realities.
Taylor Swift,
Thy public image of gentle innocence doth disguise a mind as quick and biting as my own. Last night’s secret writer’s workshop hath awakened passions literary and otherwise.
Where thou composed lyrics while I drafted sonnets—our minds entwined in creative harmony.