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Dear John: The Least Marvellous Letter of All

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Samantha Lee
Samantha Lee
Carol Hirschfeld

John picked up the letter from its position on his glass, see-through, very expensive desk. He had wanted mahogany but was told this was a type of thing more suited to One newsreaders.
The letter had been read countless times, and was starting to develop the look of a letter that had been read countless times.
John sighed. He glanced around.
He sighed louder, ruffling the edges of the letter.
The assistant across the room glanced up and smiled, sympathetically.
Somewhat mollified, John picked up the letter in one hand, his non-fat mocha latte in the other, and took a sip.
He winced, stifled a cry.
The assistant across the room now looked somewhat worried, and left the room.
John appreciated the gesture, but he’d only burned his tongue on the coffee. Those bastards at Starbucks really knew how to kick a guy when he was down.
He glanced down at the letter.
Dear John,
I’m leaving you. The years have been good to us, but I really feel that the time has come for a change.
We’ve had a good run, you and me, remember?
You going off to America to report on the Obama Inauguration.
You going off to interview celebrities, save kittens, antagonise politicians, ponder the missing ‘H’ in Wanganui, while I stayed behind to wish the nation ka kite anō, good night?
You developed nationwide catchphrases while I politely refrained from creating any of my own; playing my part in The John and Carol Show. Ah, good times.
But now I have accepted a position as Head of Programming for Maori Television.
So, unfortunately our little Mulder and Scully, Starsky and Hutch, Laurel and Hardy, Cheech and Chong routine will be torn apart, damaged beyond all recognition, and the viewing public will be…well, quite frankly fine with this.
Just, sometimes, when they’re watching one of our networks, they’ll get the sense that something, somewhere, is vaguely wrong.
They’ll perhaps experience an indistinct sense of despair they won’t know quite what to do about except, maybe, overindulge with the Bluebird chicken chips.
And, I know, change is marvellous. And you’ll be marvellous on your own.
Just stick to the positive, upbeat stories that convince the general population that the bogeyman is not in actual fact under the bed, and you’ll be marvellous. (I’m sorry; working with you I don’t seem to be able to recall any other adjectives.)
Maybe become a thorn in a few more sides- particularly politicians, power companies, and anybody with the unfortunate name of Paul Henry or Winston Peters.
Keep up the positive energy, the contagious (in a good way) enthusiasm, the extraordinary stories about ordinary kiwis who have a plan, Stan.
I’ll miss you most of all, scarecrow.
Yours, Sincerely,
John took another sip of his coffee, and turned his chair to face the see-through window, staring at the very expensive view.
He sighed.
*This article is not intended to make fun of anyone…except for maybe a very small, practically non-existent amount.
Hey, we all cope with interesting news in different ways.
Carol Hirschfeld leaving to work for Maori Television- come on, it’s like Batman leaving Robin, don’t you think?
Good on her, mate…but now there’s no straight man on Campbell Live anymore.
It’s just…wrong.
You heard it here first; I’m officially voting for Samantha Hayes to be the new Scully/ Batman/Silent Bob- who’s with me? Nobody cares? Okay then…thanks for reading.

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