EXCLUSIVE: Tom’s Secret Memo From Viacom!

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cruisesumner.jpgThrough our shady network of operatives here in the Viacom family, BWE has obtained the following copy of a secret personal memo delivered to Tom Cruise by armed agents of Viacom chief Sumner Redstone, responding to what Tom and his partner have been telling the press. We present it to you, unedited and without further comment – full text after the jump.

***URGENT MEMO***
TO BE READ IMMEDIATELY

TO: The Pansy-Ass Nancy Boy In the Kooky Space Cult Who Thinks He Can Insult Sumner F*cking Redstone

FROM: Sumner F*cking Redstone

RE: Your continued existence in the universe.

Listen here, you crackpot little pretty boy. You might think that Hollywood stardom has given you power greater than any other in the world, but I’ve got news for you: grinning and posing your way through a handful of stupid action movies has earned you approximately .01 percent of the unfathomable planetary dominance I’ve been weilding since before you were even born. I’m Sumner F*cking Redstone, and my company Viacom owns more of the people and property on this planet than most of the countries I allow to exist upon it. I hate to break this to you, but there is no God or Allah or Xanadu (or whatever the hell you idiots call your silly little space ruler) – there is only Viacom, Microsoft, Vivendi, Sony, and so on and so forth and Sumner F*cking Redstone.

The recent comments you and your associates have made to the press regarding the conclusion of our business partnership are not only insulting and irresponsible, they are blasphemous crimes against the only real god this world has, and they are punishable by unimaginable fates that are far worse than death. I haven’t written a letter since the early 1960′s, because my position of power requires the use of only two words – “yes” and “no” – to successfully conduct the necessary business affairs that maintain the vast empire I have created, which continues to grow steadily. In fact, the last time I was forced to personally sort out a problematic business affair, the entire world had to suffer the traigic loss of one of America’s most beloved presidents.

While unbelievably foolish, your arrogance is understandable. I assume you see yourself as untouchable royalty, insulated by the wealth and influence you’ve become so accustomed to enjoying. Considering this misconception, you would undoutedbly be surprised to learn that I am not only capable of making it so you cease to exist, I can make people forget that you ever did to begin with. Ever heard of Leon Butterworth? You – along with the rest of the world – surely have not, but 30 years ago Leon happened to be the greatest, most recognizable athlete on the planet. In 1975, he stunned the world by hitting 108 home runs in a single season. It’s really too bad that his taste for inappropriate romances with the beautiful and virtuous daughters of powerful CEO’s forced me to have him forgotten. I only mention him as a cautionary tale about the ease with which I could make the world believe they never saw a movie about macho fighter pilots whose unaddressed homosexual feelings for each other cause them to engage in childish daredevil stunts to see who’s “the best”. Believe me, nobody would miss it.

Even though I’ve never particularly liked you (I come from a time when action heroes killed Nazis in real life and would have punched you in the mouth for asking if they needed a “stunt man”) and find your cartoonish public persona to be increasingly ridiculous, I don’t plan to erase you just yet. By saying you’re sorry and shutting your mouth, I will grant you a second chance from my wrath, contingent upon your strict cooperation with the following terms:

Once the rest of the moviegoing public has come to the realization that your off-screen antics have fully overshadowed your on-screen performances, and they are thus no longer able to believe you as an actor, I suspect that you might be capable of making me a lot of money in the recently explosive “ex-celebrity media exploitation” market. Thus you will hereby agree to be dragged across the stages of Viacom media properties like Best Week Ever, The Surreal Life and the soon-to-be-developed America’s Next Top Person That Gets To Kick Tom Cruise In the Nuts, where you will politely allow yourself to be publicly ridiculed and humiliated again and again, for minimum compensation outside of your continued status as a celebrity, even though this kind of fame will have become a hellish prison of misery and suffering. Once I’ve squeezed out every last penny from your aging, broken body, and you’re no longer worth the public’s wasted time, I will let you die in shameful poverty, leaving behind little more than another life lesson about the tragic nature of showbiz. And I will continue to live on luxuriously, ever growing in profit and power, for all of eternity, or until I decide I don’t want to anymore – whichever comes first.

So, Mr. Cruise, your actions have left you with an important decision to make: live on forever in shame, or never have existed at all. The choice is yours, but I would suggest the former – it actually seems to be working out pretty well for David Hasselhoff (he didn’t do anything to me personally, I just can’t stand his music).

“Risky Business” isn’t just the title of one of your sh*tty movies, Thomas – it’s also a fairly accurate description of what happens when you try to cross Sumner F*cking Redstone.

All the best to Kate and Suri.

Omnipotently,

Sumner F*cking Redstone

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