I know I could dig a little deeper and change your settings and everything, but I really think flooding my inbox was uncalled for. We just met. Plus, in certain parts of the world, something like that could be called harassment.

Don’t get me wrong: you’re beautiful; you’re hot. I think you’re sexy, I really do. But come on. You’re throwing up some really big red flags, here. And I have a sneaking suspicion you’re doing the same to everyone on your network.

I hope you understand, but I think I should see other applications. I don’t want to be tied down right now. It’s not you, it’s me. Really.

Please don’t contact me again.

Seth MacFarlane sits in front of a committee one day with a pitch.

“It’s a show like the Simpsons.” he says. “I’m stealing 2 ideas from it. But don’t worry, I’m throwing in a Machiavellian baby and a talking, drunken dog to paint over the fact that I’ve plagiarized.”

The committee is immediately impressed.

Seth continues, “The first thing to steal, of course, is Homer, because he’s the show. My Homer will be named Peter Griffin.”

The committee nods in approval.

“But instead of being multidimensional, like a character, he’ll be one dimensional, like a cartoon. People like dumb, and dumb they shall get.”

“Tell us more.” the committee members say.

“The second thing: references. Have you ever noticed how the Simpsons reference constantly? My show will have references too. But instead of being written into the story so as to advance plot or deepen characters, they’ll be played like commercials. Itty bitty chunks of pop-culture to trick people into feeling good, regardless of substance. Like eating Chicken McNuggets.”

Unanimously, the committee votes to hand him a check. “Here you go, Mr. MacFarlane.” they say. “You may feed the people garbage as long as they’ll eat it.”

“No thank you.” Jenny says.

“Come on. Look at those curves.”

Jenny gets mad. “Why don’t you just go get her then?”

The man shoulders slump. “You know a guy like me could never get a girl like that. You need cash. I’m having trouble just paying my condo.”

“Why do you want her, anyway?’ Jenny says. “You don’t even know her. She could be a terrible person.”

“As if.” the man says. “Nothing that looks good like that can be bad.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m guessing.”

“I love you, John.”

“Look at that ass.” the man says, licking his lips. Jenny purposely spills coffee on his lap.

But at last, the day had come. It took him 30 seconds to realize he had played that exact game, minus the graphics, on his old console. He somehow wanted to cry.

“He’s dangerous.” the second suit agrees.

“Of course he is. The whole system could crumble. Who does he think he is, coming in like that, like a conscientious, concerned man speaking the truth? Doesn’t he know what this is about? Doesn’t he know what the truth could do? By God man, he could spell the end of it all.”

The second man nods his head in agreement. He crosses his arms and squints. “Dangerous.” he says. “Reckless.”

“Do they really think,” says the first man, “this democracy is real? Do they think they can actually vote for someone and he’ll win? Don’t they know how it all works?”

The second man thinks hard, tapping his chin with his finger. “We could run an American Gladiators marathon. Dumb people down a notch. They won’t notice he’s excluded from the debate.”

The first man claps his hands excitedly. “John, you’re an answer man. A real pro. Let’s get some Chinese.”