The following is a purely fictional account that is not about any real person, living or dead, I promise.
It resulted from a ChatGPT prompt that David Gerrold had used just to pass the time. I took the idea, ran it through Copilot, refining it as we went through several iterations and laughing my ass off and shaking my head all the way through.
Since it was David's idea, I got his permission before bastardizing it.
Really, this is fiction, and bears NO resemblance to real people, seriously!
Mark Killy stood in front of Donnie Tramp, arms crossed, tired in a way that went deeper than sleep.
"Donnie, you need to hear this, and you need to actually listen for once. You walk around acting like you are the final authority on everything. In your mind, you are always right. Not sometimes. Not often. Always. You treat your own opinions like they are carved into stone tablets. The rest of us are supposed to nod along like we are lucky to be in the presence of your brilliance."
Mark shook his head slowly.
"You demand loyalty like you are running a cult. One hundred percent agreement, one hundred percent of the time. If someone tells you no, even politely, you treat it like betrayal. You throw people out of your life like they are disposable. Then you punish them in every petty way you can manage. You do not want friends. You want followers."
Donnie opened his mouth, but Mark cut him off with a raised hand.
"No. You do not get to talk yet. You have spent your entire life talking over people. You can stand there and hear this."
Mark stepped closer.
"You treat everyone around you like props. You take advantage of kindness. You twist words. You guilt trip. You drain people until they have nothing left to give. Then you complain that they are not supportive enough. You are a walking burden who thinks he is a gift."
He let out a humorless laugh.
"Your wife cannot stand you. She stays because the lifestyle is easier than leaving. She stays because the money and the image are more stable than your personality. You think her silence is devotion. It is not. It is survival."
Mark's voice hardened.
"You have never loved anyone but yourself. You do not even understand what love is. You mimic it the way a parrot mimics speech. Sound without meaning. People exist to serve you, praise you, or admire you. If they stop doing that, you discard them."
He paced once, then pointed at Donnie.
"Your ethics are a joke. You call something wrong only when it inconveniences you. You call something right only when it benefits you. You lie and call it honesty. You manipulate and call it clarity. You have no moral compass. You have excuses. That is all."
Mark's expression twisted with disgust.
"And your excuses never stop. Nothing is ever your fault. Not the messes you make. Not the people you hurt. Not the promises you break. You blame stress, timing, misunderstandings, other people, the universe. If accountability were oxygen, you would have suffocated years ago."
He took a breath, steady and cold.
"Emotionally, you are a child. You throw tantrums when you are challenged. You pout when you are corrected. You treat boundaries like insults. You want adult privileges with none of the responsibility. You are a toddler in a grown body."
Mark looked him up and down.
"And your intellect. God. You are loud, empty, and convinced the noise you make is wisdom. You argue about things you do not understand. You confuse stubbornness with intelligence. People do not stop arguing because you are right. They stop because they are exhausted."
He wrinkled his nose.
"And your hygiene. You live like you are allergic to soap. Your clothes look like they have been through a war. Your breath could strip paint. Your environment smells like neglect. Being near you feels like a health risk."
Mark’s expression darkened.
“And we need to talk about the way you treat people who are not like you. Your racism is not subtle. It is not hidden. It is not a slip of the tongue. It is a choice you make every time you open your mouth. You talk down to people, you stereotype them, you dismiss their experiences, and you act like your ignorance is some kind of insight."
"Your misogyny is just as rotten. You treat women like accessories, like props, like they exist to flatter you or serve you. You interrupt them, you belittle them, you ignore their expertise, and you get angry when they do not play along. You sexually assault them, for crying out loud. You are not bold. You are not edgy. You are not a sex symbol. You are a small man who needs to feel superior to someone, anyone, because you cannot stand the idea of being equal.”
Finally, Mark leaned in, voice low and sharp.
"And then there is your ego. Huge. Fragile. Always hungry. You need praise like you need air. You inflate your achievements. You rewrite your failures. You expect applause for existing. Under all that swagger is a terrified little void that would rather burn every bridge than admit it is ordinary."
Mark straightened.
"That is who you are, Donnie. Not a leader. Not a genius. Not a victim. Just a man who has spent his entire life demanding worship he never earned."
He stepped back.
"And for once, you do not get to talk your way out of it. The entire world sees it and knows it, and soon you will face the consequences of your behavior and actions. The world waits on the edge of its seat for that day, which will be here sooner than you think."
One can only hope
ReplyDelete