You’ve been eating nothing but White Castle, kimchi, and hard-boiled eggs all day, and you’ve got the universe’s worst gas storm brewing.
You’re also in a hotel room where both Matt Millen and Matt Patricia are sleeping with their CPAP machines. You can fart into either CPAP intake, forcing that person to take all of your sulfury fury. But you must choose only one.
We bring a box of Krispy Kremes to Millen’s room and tell him Patricia is coming down with some nice Starbucks to enjoy them with. We bring the coffee to Patricia and tell him to bring one over to Matt and oh he’s got some donuts to share. Boom. Let em both have it.
Old man Ford probably deserved some epic farts. Not only did he hire Millen with no experience, he even gave Millen a contract extension.
When first approached by owner William Clay Ford Sr. about the job, Millen told him “Mr. Ford, I really appreciate this, but I’m not qualified.” Ford responded “You’re smart. You’ll figure it out.”[12]
Millen. Not even close. And I won’t let time heal that wound. Like the sequels vs the prequels. Natalie Portman’s getting my ass gale before Daisy Ridley.