We're just going to pull the band-aid off here: we're writing to tell you that we don't want to see you anymore.
We don't want to hurt your feelings, because you seem to be kind of thin-skinned, like the kind of thin-skinned where if somebody makes a joke about you you'll run for president. And it's not you, it's us. We don't want you to be our king. Or anybody. But especially you.
We know you're going to be mad about this, because you don't handle rejection well, but if you take a deep breath and ask yourself if we'd be happy as king and subjects, I think you'll agree that there's just no way it would work out. You would be all Do this, do that, accept every unconstitutional thing I do and don't say a word about it, I'm going to rob the country blind to make me and my friends richer, we're going to outlaw all of the kinds of people we hate and watch it that might include you, and we would be all No. And you would try to round everybody up who disagreed with you and we would all be in the streets and not just with clever signs and your buildings would take a terrible beating. Do any of us really want an ugly breakup like that?
Don't be sad. There's other subjects in the sea. Someday you may even get to run a prison gang. But you don't get to be the boss of us.
We're sending back this picture you gave us. We don't want it. Please don't bother us anymore.
Samuel Cohen 