Chapter Text
“You know what, Ross? Fuck you. I’m done.”
The woman turned on her heel and marched towards the door.
“Leigh, wait!” Ross called after her.
“No!” She shouted, turning to face him. “No, I’m fucking done with your bullshit!”
“But I need you, baby,” he whined.
“You need me? More like the show needs me.” She scoffed. “I guess you’ll just have to find a way to actually write it this time.”
He grabbed her wrist, crying “but I don’t know how to write a show! I have no fucking clue-”
She slapped him sharply across the face. “Well good fucking luck,” she spat, and stalked out of the room.
Ross sank into a chair, placing his face in his palms.
“How am I going to do this without her,” he wailed.
Suddenly, a thought struck him, one of the few times this would ever occur.
He grabbed his laptop and opened it, typing hurriedly. His fingers smashed the keyboard, mourning the fact that they would never again smash his wife.
The tab ‘ChatGPT’ sprung up, and he jumped for joy at his genius.
“This is great!” He celebrated. “I don’t need her, I have plenty of great ideas. With the help of my trusty digital friend, this season will be the best one ever!” He sighed in pleasure.
“People are going to love it.”