Pluto, you are out. Just like that. Heartless. As if none of us could relate to you— not quite big enough for our own britches, not pulling enough of our weight. You are not a survivor of this reality show. And now, the pejoratives: "dwarf," "outcast," the embarrassing "planette." You need some savvy PR, Pluto— an interview with Diane Sawyer, a good turn on "Dancing with the Stars." Children all over the earth pluck your tiny likeness out of their mobiles. I have to wonder: will plutonium seek a new sponsor? Who will bat ninth for the galaxy? Must your name now call only a mousey mouse's dog? Unsavory. Still, you glide on, if awkwardly, if slowly. It is dark out there. Mercury is nervous.
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Funny and poignant. 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻
Oh Ang. This is Wonderful. ❤️ love to see your personality come through.