Dear David Neeleman,

Did you get an eyeful of the devilishly handsome man in 12C? Well, hold on to your knickerbockers: It was I, your old friend Burnsy, inspecting your airline under the guise of a mustachioed mess-about.

Initially, I thought my ruse a bust, as I was provided with a seat made of leather – the favored upholstery of sheiks – and enough legroom to stow a middle-aged man betwixt my pantaloons (Smithers said the flight was delightful). But nay, every catchpenny passenger had as much legroom as me, as if every man is worthy of high society’s spoils. What if one of the peasants were to touch me? We’d have to make an emergency landing at my detoxification station.

Your company is nothing but a lavish human herding outfit. Do those greedy customers really need room to wiggle their toes? My foot’s been asleep for sixteen years and I haven’t complained once.

Sincerely,
C. Montgomery Burns

Dear David Neeleman,

Now, I hear you’re providing passengers with an unlimited cache of snacks. You realize they don’t grow on trees, don’t you? What say you Smithers? They do? Ah yes, monkey snacks. Well, until you transport a gaggle of baboons, limit your snack dispersal.

Take this lesson from the nuclear power plant: give a man inexpensive energy and he’ll suck your uranium deposits dry. But price gouge a man and he’ll flip his light switch only to read the electricity bill.

If I were you, I’d make customers beg for their chocolate chip cookies and Terra Blue Chips. It’s much easier to crush a man that’s already broken. And decidedly more fun.

Sincerely,
C. Montgomery Burns

Dear David Neeleman,

You’ve got it all backwards, Blue Boy. Smithers says you provide DIRECTV and Fox films on all your flights. Moving pictures and talkies on a flying machine… What’s next, a live performance by famed vaudevillian Baby Rose Marie?

As a young businessman in the Great Depression I learned customers are there for our entertainment. Not the other way around. I recommend poking your passengers with a sharpened twig or ridding the beverage carts of ice. It will be quite the hootenanny watching those sad saps drink their soda pop at room temperature.

If you’re using DIRECTV to distract the passengers while committing thievery, I respect your racket. But knowing you, Neeleman, you probably hand out shillings with every bemusement.

I must go now as Smithers has prepared my colon cleansing.

Sincerely,
C. Montgomery Burns

Dear Mr. Neeleman,

Smithers entered my chambers this morning, toting wretched tales of congenial customer service and overly indulgent amenities on your JetBlue Airways. And for what… your precious passengers? Soon, the riff raff will demand 'fair treatment' from all corporate overlords, like myself. Well, not in my chemically prolonged life-time.

I had Smithers hack your interwebular chronicle so I may set you straight, because lately, David Neeleman, your business practices really chafe my bed sores.

I believe customers have the right to keep quiet as I pluck every penny from their upturned pockets, but you insist on charging honest fares AND offering free TV and unlimited snacks. Mind your profit margins, man. Your rates make a mockery of the corporate greed our great confederacy was built upon. Who taught you to be a robber baron? Mother Teresa?

This won't be your last public lashing, Mr. Neeleman. Oh no. I have many more brittle bones to pick with you.

Sincerely,
C. Montgomery Burns

3-July-2007 — From the Inbox of C. Montgomery Burns