Bob Woodward: “‘I can’t think of a time I’ve felt more anxiety about the presidency.”

In light of Pelosi’s concerns about Trump’s health and mass general concerns about Trump’s mental stability, Kendall Roy writes an email to the board.

To the Board of Waystar Royco:

First things first: yo. I hope this email finds you sizzlin’ my home skillets.

Uh, uh, so, right. Look, uh, Logan, my dad, is sick. Despite what you’ve read in the press, or what you’ve seen on ATN (which news flash, he put chips in their brains), he is mentally unfit to run Waystar Royco. He is Stage 4 cancer to the company. We are not in remission. We have tumors all over our bodies, and it’s only a matter of time until we’re bleeding out of our fucking eye sockets.

Not to mention, the optics aren’t good. He’s taking meetings with high profile figures. He’s strutting about on national television like a babbling Honeymooner. He didn’t denounce the Proud Boys and thinks QAnon is fighting pedophilia. What’s next? Is he gonna start spewing that Saddam Hussein was only misunderstood but “hey, it’s fine ‘cause at least he got a lot of pussy?”

Point blank. He’s fucking us. And I’m not about to go doggy style for my dad, while Marcia sits in the corner eating foie gras and watches like some sick subcategory on Reality Kings.

That’s why, today, I’m officially calling for a vote of no confidence, for the three-thousandth time. You might remember the other attempts which slipped through my fingers:

  1. That Zoom call in which I couldn’t figure out how to add people.
  2. In May, when I left a voicemail on your cells screaming “vote of no confidence” with Lit’s “My Own Worst Enemy” blaring in the background.
  3. The kidnapping situation gone wrong. Fuck you Stewy for not showing up.
  4. When I told my dad to his face, and he yelled at me, and I cried.

I understand I have my own problems. I’m a coke addict. I have no self-control, and I admit, I fucking suck. I was last seen breaking into Madison Square Garden and jamming out to Blueprint where I fell asleep with a bleezie and burnt the building to the ground. Am I one bender away from trying to jump a jet ski off the top of the Vessel? Maybe.

But that doesn’t matter because I’m still the special sauce baby. I’m juiced full of confidence. “Cash, Rules, Everything, Around, Me! C.R.E.A.M.! Get the money! Dollar, dollar bill y'all!”

The priority is getting dad out pronto, but after that, we’ll need a new CEO. Who else can run this thing other than me? One of my siblings?

Connor’s running for President against Biden on a platform called “The Purge.” Plus, since Willa’s Broadway debut was panned as “A Whore No More, When Money Can Buy You Your Career,” his first executive order is to outlaw art.

Roman, the worm, hasn’t been trusted since he created “Immigrant Border Olympics” where the winner got a head start before he called ICE. Rumor has it he got Gerri pregnant last winter at an annual charity event. He claims it’s impossible because he wouldn’t stick his dick inside Grandmother Willow.

Shiv was caught funding NXIVM. She’s currently at the Royal Davui Island Resort in Fiji with Tom because she convinced him to get branded with Keith Raniere’s initials. No, Shiv didn’t get the brand. Shiv also shot herself in the foot like Dick Cheney during the family dinner with the Pierces, so she's recovering.

And Cousin Greg willingly sacrificed himself last summer by playing roulette with fentanyl in exchange to have the last name Roy. So, he’s dead now.

Team. I’ve thought long and hard about this in between doing meth off strippers in Shanghai. I’m the OG, baby. You need me! While I can’t say what my plan is once I’m put in charge, largely because I actually don’t know, it will be a plan so good, you'll jizz yourself until your body is goo.

So yeah. We need to act fast, which is why I’ve scheduled an in-person meeting at 4:00 PM tomorrow. I am currently in China about to invest in this hip new startup which converts whale piss into hydropower. I should make it back in time, but most likely I will shit the bed.

Also, whatever device you’re reading this on, will self-destruct, so be mindful of that. Stay cool.

Your Favorite Ken Doll,
Kendall Roy

Moments later, Logan found Kendall’s iPad and shot him in the face.


And now a quick joke...

When porpoises work out, do they get a rush of endolphins?