Son, I’m going to need you to put the Xbox controller down. Now, you’re not in trouble, but we need to have a serious talk about your responsibilities in this household. You’re not a little kid anymore, and it’s time you stepped up and pulled your weight review-bombing the latest Marvel Cinematic Universe releases around here.
Growing up comes with privileges, son, but you also have to earn them.
Specifically, you need to be doing way more in visiting review aggregator sites over and over, using as many sock puppet accounts as you can, and giving negative score after negative score to Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania, Black Panther: Wakanda Forever, and pretty much anything Kevin Feige greenlights to suck up to the woke lib masses.
What would your little sister think if she knew you were barely even spamming Brie Larson’s Instagram account to call her a “feminazi”?
She looks up to you, son.
Your sister, that is. If Academy Award winner Brie Larson is aware of you, it should only be as one of the faceless horde frothing at the mouth to push the Rotten Tomatoes Audience Score for The Marvels to 0% within minutes of its first release, earlier than anyone could have possibly formed an actual opinion about it.
Look at me, son. Trust me; it hurts me more than you to have to speak to you like this.
But you can’t shirk your responsibilities any longer. In this house, we stand for a few things: loyalty, hard work, and making sure that Marvel Studios knows that it must obey the wishes of true fans or it will face an online campaign of harassment that will make #releasethesnydercut seem like #releasetheayerscut.
No talk-back about this, son. This is part of your heritage. This is part of who you are.
Someday, you’ll understand that.
Listen, I know you’ve got a lot of things on your mind. It’s your sophomore year of high school; you’ve got debate team, you’re on the JV soccer team, and I know you’ve really putting in the hours cyberbullying that woman in Oregon who writes fan-fiction about Hawkeye—not the real Clint Barton from the canonical comics—but that fake Jeremy Renner facsimile. Don’t even get me and your mom started on this woke-mind-virus Hailee Steinfeld bullshit.
But you still have to contribute to this household. We’re a family here, and our family cares.
Specifically, we care about utterly vilifying, alienating, and verbally torturing anyone who’s ever been involved in a Marvel project, just like we did with Chris Pratt, Patty Jenkins, Edgar Wright, and Scarlett Johansson. Especially her. Any woman, really.
I don’t like having to come down hard on you, son, and I’m proud as all get out of the work you did tanking Ms. Marvel’s numbers. But you’re part of something bigger than yourself here.
Someday, when you’re doxxing Marvel writers with your own kids, you’ll understand.
Tell you what: this Sunday, let’s all swat James Gunn together, now that that traitor has jumped ship to DC, then go get ice cream, just like when you were little.
Love you, buddy.