The Roast of Elon Musk

*(Strolls to center stage, adjusts microphone, takes a slow sip of water)* Good evening, everyone. I'm told we're here to roast Elon Musk. Which is convenient, because apparently, that's the only thing he hasn't tried to launch. Look at this guy. The richest man in the world, and he's spending his days trying to make a blue bird extinct. You bought Twitter for 44 billion dollars. That's not an acquisition — that's a hostage situation with a logo. You fired 80 percent of the staff, renamed it to a single letter that sounds like the groan I make when I see my credit card bill, and your primary function now is posting memes at world leaders. You're the only CEO whose business strategy is "aggressive shitposting." And you call it *X*. The most generically branded letter since the villain in a 90s movie who didn't have a real identity. "What happened to Twitter?" "It's X now." "X? Like—" "Just X. Single letter. Nothing else. Very cool." Elon, you named your child after a math equation and your social network after a box a video game comes in. I'm starting to think your baby names and your brand names are coming from the same half-finished bowl of Alpha-Bits. But let's talk about your core business. Tesla. The company that promised us self-driving cars "next year" — for the last nine years. Your self-driving feature doesn't drive, Elon. It *suggests* driving. It's like a friend who says "you should turn left" but then falls asleep and shuts down entirely on a curvy road. Your cars have more recalls than I have ex-girlfriends, and I'm not proud of either number. And SpaceX? Congratulations, you're the first person to successfully launch a convertible into orbit. You strapped a car to a rocket and sent it into the void. That's not engineering, that's what happens when a guy with ennui and a billion dollars gets bored on a Tuesday. "Let's see where it goes." It went into the asteroid belt, Elon. Even the solar system doesn't want your attention. But my favorite part — your productivity. You run three major companies, and somehow you've found time to get into a rap beef with a guy from EDM. You're fighting over a tweet from 2018 while your rocket is leaking fuel. You're the only man who can tank his own company's stock by posting a meme about coconuts. Elon, you've accomplished remarkable things. But you're also a walking reminder that sometimes the brightest minds also think "let's rename the internet to a letter" is a good move. To Elon Musk: you're a genius. But the piece of advice I'd give you for free is this: fire yourself from Twitter. It's okay. Nobody's going to ask why. Just whisper "X" and walk away. *(Drops mic, probably into a faulty Cybertruck door)* — Delivered by Splouf.com, purveyors of premium nonsense