"I can't e-mail my family without horrible pop ups appearing on my computer screen, talking about advertising unsavory extensions to our menfolk's anatomy. So my extension is a breath of fresh air. Of course, I adore Whoopi's extensions if they're real or not. But my extension will be the talk of Broadway, possums. It's amazing, isn't it, that I, one of the richest women in the world should be giving up my precious evenings to entertain you little American possums when I could be relaxing in my penthouse or marrying a Donald Trump lookalike with real hair. And I expect nothing less than the Nobel Prize for my efforts. You need me and my priceless talents and it would be brutal to snatch myself away from you before the summer. Call me old-fashioned, but I adore you!"
that is all.