Dear Mr. Fallon,
Your crimes against comedy are well documented. We all watched you laugh your way through one mediocre sketch after another on “Saturday Night Live” and when you left the show to start your movie career, we thought we were finally rid of you. Unfortunately the pain had only just begun. For reasons known only to Lorne Michaels and the alien parasite currently residing in his parietal lobe, he chose you to take over “Late Night” from Conan O’Brian in the summer of 2009.
With the transition rapidly approaching, I came across an alarming article in the Philadelphia Daily News claiming hip-hop assassins The Roots would be retiring from touring to work as your house band. Now I would have held my tongue and let you suck your way to oblivion Mr. Fallon, but you seem intent on taking the things I love with you. THIS WILL NOT STAND!
What’s next? Will you hire Michael Chabon to write you monologue every day? If you do, have the courtesy not to laugh at the jokes before you finish telling them. What about filming your show in the Smithsonian? You could take a dump in Abraham Lincoln’s hat while you’re there.
For a few moments, Mr. Fallon, I thought congratulations were in order. Your surprising show of good taste combined with the stones to make such a request of the world’s greatest hip-hop band seemed almost visionary. But I’ve come to my senses. Please Mr. Fallon, I beg you. This is not a time for lesser men. We need the great ones to stay great. Keep your mediocrity to yourself.
Sincerely,
A Concerned Citizen
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