Dearest Ashley Greene and Kullan Kellan Lutz,
Well look at that – Kellan, I spelled your name wrong in my open letter to you! I’d apologize except that I think it’s a perfect example of how insignificant you are. I’m a massive Twi-dork and I sometimes forget your name. So why then do you guys think your irrelevant asses deserve $4 million for each Breaking Dawn movie?
Look dudes, I get where you’re coming from. You’re part of a mega-franchise, with the second installment, New Moon, raking in $140.7 million in its opening weekend alone. So sure, $4 million (or $8 million, if Breaking Dawn is split into two movies) doesn’t seem like that much compared to how much the Twilight franchise makes (and how much Kristen Stewart, Rob Pattinson and Taylor Lautner are reportedly earning). But let’s be realistic here.
Ashley, you were a waitress at the Belmont Cafe before some casting director huffed crack and gave you the role of Alice Cullen – probably because your inexperience made you an affordable option. Sure, you were already a A-List star, what with your role as “McDonald’s Customer” in the movie no one saw, King of California, but Twilight kinda gave you a career bump, dontcha think?
Kellan, you look like every other gym-addicted, protein smoothie guzzling, tank-top wearing, girl in a club grinding, douche bag infesting America today. The most important thing you do in Twilight is pat Bella on the back. We’re confident Mike from Jersey Shore could handle that situation, and would be happy being paid in steroids and vodka tonics to do so. Sure, you had some bit parts on shows like The Comeback and 90210, but your most high profile role pre-Twilight was appearing in a Hilary Duff perfume ad. You should try letting the rain fall down and wake you from these salary dreams, bro.
Now you guys have movie roles pouring in, instant name recognition and a massive built-in fan base, all because you stand around in white face make up and red contact lenses for a couple of hours and pretend to punch things. Oh, but you have to do press and publicity and boo-hoo-hoo, that takes up so much of your time! STFU, whiners. Most people I know would kill to sit around and talk about themselves while wearing a new pair of Christian Louboutins every day (Me! I will do it!). All this groveling just makes you look greedy, when we all know the crap I took this morning could do your job – and do it better – for a lot less pay (it’s asking $1 million per film but is willing to negotiate).
So do what your wise co-star (with a much longer and more respectable resume) Nikki Reed did, snag the $750,000-$1 million she apparently signed on for per Breaking Down installment. Then get back in your new Mercedes, drive off to your fancy new Hollywood condo and drown your sorrows in a $500 bottle of wine before Summit Rachelle LaFevres your asses. You’re already doing better than the rest of us (including the President, a-holes!) and only because you’re remotely hot and actually get your money’s worth out of your gym membership.
When in doubt, do what you do in the Twilight movies: stand there silently and look pretty.