Fine. I will leave this high school reunion, but I will not do so quietly. That's right, call security, because that's the only way I will exit this hotel ball room: being dragged out by goons.

I can't lie and say that I didn't come here expecting to cause a scene. I imagined that my presence would involve some sort of kerfuffle, but I do apologize for the innocent people who were involved. Angie, when I took a swing at Harriet, I did not mean to catch your earring in such an unfortunate way. And Jonny, I am really sorry that you got blood on your shirt. I know it's the only nice one you have. I will pay for the dry cleaning bill.

As for the rest of you, you got what you deserved and you know it. If you're saying that you didn't think that I would come here and finally tell you to your face what you needed to hear, and maybe demonstrate it physically, then you're idiots. I just hope I gave you, and your spouses, something to think about.

I am only disappointed that I worked so hard and did so much crystal meth to fit into this size 2 and none of you look as dismayed (you women) or as shocked and turned on and abashed (you guys) as you should.

I will see you in five years.

All right, all right, I'M GOING. Jesus Christ.