Okay, Stephenie Meyer you perky little Cultural Phenom you, you owe me, and I'm not talking about the 125 bucks I spent on five books spread over the three Betagirls in my house. Five, not four. I had to buy Twilight twice, according to Betateen. It was just that good. (Ed. note: Okay. It was.)
I mean, don't get me wrong. I'm grateful to you for many things, not the least of which including the raising of my Betachildren: the new literacy, the carrying around of Twilight like it was the Bible, and more than anything else the the idea that performing so much as a b.j. requires either a) marriage or b) being made into a vampire, whichever floats your boat. An idea which, by the way, the entire class of BetaHighSchool could anecdotally or personally refute, unless they could choose plan b), and yet get this, they love your book...!
But here's the thing. Enough is enough. I need my children back, and I need them to put your book down and start reading Dickens, or anything else about poor street urchins willing to shine your boots, Gov? It's time to put down The Host, which they gamely read in search of traces of Edward, as if he were something you had ground up and mashed into the paper itself. It's time to stop looking up Robert Pattinson online.
BECAUSE BETAMOM IS TOO POOR FOR TWILIGHT NOW. Too poor for fantasy. Too poor for the Free Time of Betateens. And sadly, yes, too poor for hardcover books. Edward needs to hawk one of those cars. Dogboy needs to start selling those dirtbikes at a profit. Bella needs to work her way up through to management at the sporting goods store. We're broke over here and my children will eat up whatever you say...
So I'm begging you, from one working Betamom to Another (because come on, your husband is named Pancho and you're from Arizona, you have to be one of us, aren't you?) use your powers for good instead of evil. WRITE A BOOK WHERE THE CHILDREN DON'T JUST COOK CHARLIE DINNER, THEY DO HIS LAUNDRY! I'll even pay, five bucks a load, that's the going rate in my house since we had to fire the $90 per day cleaning lady. Write a book where my impressionable Betateen learns to get a respectable job with health benefits because WE NO LONGER HAVE INSURANCE! Maybe even just a little babysitting moonlighting that will help buy the milk (OK, Diet Coke) or at least pay for Betateen's own razors and clear nail polish, which cost me 39.00 at Rite Aid yesterday and that was a splurge on the level of Christmas at my house. Ah, the little things...
I know you probably voted for the other guy, being from Arizona or whatever, but we're all in this together now...
Betamoms everywhere are looking to you to lead our children to the path to fiscal responsibility. There's just no real clear career path in the world of eternal darkness, unless you mean writing about it. So don't let Edward Turn our Betadaughters. You, Steph, Turn them into Earners. Write the fantasy right out of them. Help train up Betamom's own personal Betachildworkforce. I know you know what I'm talking about: We all have work. Let no one shirk. Put your shoulder to the wheel, Steph.
Yours in BetaChild Slavery,
Betamom
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