A Letter From Paul Newman

Hey Punks,

I see what you’re doing. Hell, I’ve been watching your little operation for months now. Haven’t seen me? That’s because I’m a goddamn ghost, riding an invisible golden stallion that is driving an even more invisible Porsche 935.

You have no idea who you’re dealing with here, kiddies. Remember Cool Hand Luke? To get into character, I lived in that prison for 8 months. I ate fifty eggs for each and every meal. Remember Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid? Of course you do, who doesn’t? Well they cut the last scene of the movie short. They left out the part where I killed dozens of Bolivian soldiers, overthrew their government, and renamed their capital city New Sundance, after my buddy who was killed after I used his body as a human shield to fend off the Bolivians. I also voiced a car in Cars.

You think these are some idle threats from a man who spent his life with theater folk? My first theater was the Pacific theater. Sure, I was an actor, but Ryan Gosling sure as hell was never a gunner in Okinawa.

You probably can’t wrap your tiny little heads around what I’ve done for America. Do you even know about Newman’s Own? I made so much salsa, so much lemonade, and so much damn limeade and I NEVER kept the profits. The money that came from all of those hours of stirring pink lemonade went to a camp for ill children. I gave that camp more money than I stole from Robert Shaw on the set of The Sting. I did all that just with cartons of lemonade with my face on it. What have you done? I wore that damn safari hat and pink bowtie ONE TIME, and now that picture is plastered to every carton of lemonade in all of North America.

This leads me to you two pricks. Damn rebels with no sense of decency or business etiquette. You should leave the real work to the professionals, the folks who have been doing this longer than you’ve been able to walk. Listen to these words, and let them remain etched in your minds for the rest of your life:

Shut down your fucking lemonade stand.

I’m watching you,

Paul Newman, Ghost

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