The Schism

Listen to what I'm saying to you now: there are no good options here, but the longer this whole mess drags out, the worse it's going to be for both of you. The only thing you can do here is separate yourself entirely no matter how hard it is for you---otherwise you're both going down. Is that what you want? I didn't think so. So here's the plan as I see it: first, you get yourself off the sandwich somehow by midnight tomorrow before the Monday news cycle rolls around and the press is beating down your door. It can be done, it's been done before. Second, you make a statement that you've known jelly for years and you have the utmost respect for what it's done in the past, but you can no longer stand by it in the face of what's transpired. Third, you take a year off in which no one sees you, hears from you, or even remembers what peanut butter is. And then, when no one associates you anymore with this fiasco, we get to work on finding you a new sandwich to get in on. None of this is going to be pleasant, but good Lord, maybe you could have seen a little of this coming. And by the way, when I say you have to get off the sandwich, I really mean it; leave absolutely no trace of yourself on that Wonder bread. We can't give CNN or Fox any reason to go back to it and start in with more questions.

Now, just between you and me, what happened there, for God's sake? I mean, how does something so good go so bad so fast? On Tuesday you're in a third grader's lunch bag causing no one any harm and by Friday you have the governor of New Mexico condemning both of you on 60 Minutes? How many times do---whoa whoa whoa, don't you pick up that cell phone if that's jelly calling. DON'T YOU PICK UP THAT CELL PHONE.

Fine, do what you want, I've lost interest. I'm going to sit back in my chair and dream about my ark. That's right, you've all pushed me to the point where I just sit here sometimes and fantasize about getting in a nice big wooden ark and sailing away. No animals involved, just me puttering around an ark the length of six football fields all day, floating on the open sea. This is what you've driven me to. Ark fantasies. Happy now?