Dear Oprah.
We bet you're surprised to hear from us Oprah. We've had our differences in the past. There was that little James Frey mishap, that whole Dr. Phil period, and the fact that you opened a school in Africa instead of helping kids out on the South Side of your own city of residence. But, Oprah, darling, we've been considering you, your warm heart, your soft, downy arms, and your massive, massive wealth, and we've decided to let bygones be bygones. We only have one condition. You have to adopt us.
Now Oprah, we are not dumb. We know you get heart breaking supplications on a regular basis, but this will be of great benefit, not just to us, but to you, as well. And don't worry. We're not talking about some trendy, law-bending foreign adoption, a la Madonna or Angelina. We're offering our all-American, whip-smart, responsible adult services to you. Think about it, Oprah. You have seven houses. Seven! You can't even in your most omniscient state occupy them all at once, even with the help of Stedman & Gail. We would be more than happy to house-sit them for you and make sure the food in those well stocked fridges doesn't go bad. We can even take some of that pesky money off your hands. Make no mistake. We're not greedy. We just have the common needs of a pleb. Credit card needs, student debt needs, and, occasionally, gold-plated toilet needs.
Oprah, if you're still not convinced, we'll sweeten the deal. Nama and Murgs humbly offer you their immortal souls to do with as you please. And while Murgs' is a little battered and overly-handled, Nama's is as pristine as an angel's toenail, perfect for cushioning your head while you sleep or for removing stubborn eye makeup. It's a once in a lifetime deal, Oprah. We hope you'll consider it.
With love,
Nama & Murgs
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