She sat in the dark, the monitor casting a pale glow across the studio. Stack of printed headlines to her left. Coffee to her right. A long night ahead.

“Kim Kardashian’s Skims employees are turning on her,” she said, voice flat. “Filing a class action lawsuit for unpaid wages.”

She pulled up the first headline.

“Gypsy Rose Blanchard is making James Charles look like a clown after donating to the woman he dragged online for losing her job.”

She pulled up another.

“The David investigation has gotten even messier. He’s fully convinced he’ll be set free. But he doesn’t realize there’s new audio going around—capturing him admitting to the crime.”

She pulled up the clip thumbnail.

“It’s kind of giving Harley Quinn.”

She paused.

“Okay. Cute.”

She pulled up the next headline.

“Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds are desperate to get out of the United States.”

Another.

“Cardi B got into a messy argument in public with her cheating baby daddy.”

She leaned forward.

“There’s a lot to get through today. So let’s get into it.”

She pulled up the Kardashian lawsuit first. Kim. Skims. The cracks in the empire.

“Damn it, Kimberly. You really should have stayed in law school. Because these lawsuits are stacking up.”

She pulled up the article.

“A former Skims employee, David Knight, filed a lawsuit in California accusing the company of wage and labor violations. He says he and other employees were denied overtime pay despite working more than eight hours a day or forty hours a week.”

She pulled up the rest.

“No legally required meal breaks. No rest breaks. Not properly paid minimum wage for all hours worked.”

She paused.

“Sounds like a standard Kardashian dinner job. We see Kylie tossing around Hermès Birkins like they’re candy. But their employees can’t even live a basic standard life.”

She pulled up the class action detail.

“David is seeking a class action lawsuit—so a bunch of employees can come together and sue the brand. That’s a big deal. It shows he’s not just a disgruntled employee. There’s actually a problem here.”

She pulled up Skims’ response.

“This is a boilerplate filing—recycled by plaintiff firms across California in search of fast settlements. Skims is not going to bow down.”

She laughed.

“Pretty much Kim and Skims are saying they’re not going to fold. They have a lot of money. Very expensive attorneys. They’ll try to make this go away.”

She pulled up the Kim clip. The one that always comes back.

“Get your f—ing ass up and work. It seems like nobody wants to work these days.”

She paused.

“Well, they are working. They’re just not being properly compensated.”

She pulled up the Kylie housekeeper lawsuit.

“Kylie’s housekeeper, Wana, claims she wrote a letter to Kylie about the abuse she was going through. And Kylie, instead of helping her, punished her.”

She pulled up the insider quote.

“Kylie admits she’s a tough taskmaker. But she views the suit as a cash grab. She has a huge staff and rarely deals with the help one-on-one.”

She shook her head.

“Kylie, when you received that letter begging for help—what did you do? You should have stopped the harassment and discrimination right then and there. That’s why you’re held responsible. Because you’re the employer.”

She pulled up the first hinge.

“The Kardashians don’t have an employee problem. They have an empathy problem. And you can’t sue your way out of that.”

She pulled up Gypsy Rose Blanchard. The donation. The redemption arc.

“Gypsy Rose is going viral because she donated to the ex-Spirit Airlines employee after James Charles decided to drag that poor woman.”

She pulled up the context.

“Spirit Airlines is no longer with us. Rest in peace. Seventeen thousand employees left without work. One woman named Amber asked James Charles for help.”

She pulled up James’s response. The rant.

“What else would help you? Getting another job. Yeah, try that. In the time it took you to copy and paste the same message to me—you could have applied for a hundred other jobs. But you didn’t. Because you’re a lazy piece of s— and you’re entitled.”

She paused.

“Why would I ever help you? You’re not a fan. You don’t even follow me. Welcome to the real world, sweetheart.”

She let the silence sit.

“And in a world full of James Charles—be a Gypsy Rose.”

She pulled up Gypsy’s donation. Five hundred dollars.

“Hi, my name is Gypsy Rose Blanchard. I’m an influencer on TikTok. I have 9.3 million followers. I’m truly sorry for what happened. Sending many positive vibes to you.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know Gypsy had it like that. Coughing up five hundred dollars. Good for you, girl.”

She pulled up Gypsy’s statement to TMZ.

“The point I made was that just because someone has a larger following doesn’t give them the right to bully other people. I didn’t want it to be about me. Because it’s not about me.”

She pulled up the update.

“Amber has gained over thirty thousand followers. Her GoFundMe has forty-one thousand dollars in it. There’s also a five-thousand-dollar donation from somebody using James’s name and picture.”

She paused.

“Maybe he coughed up the five K. But a little too late.”

She pulled up the second hinge.

“James Charles yelled ‘welcome to the real world’ at a woman who lost her job. Gypsy Rose—who spent years in prison—showed him what the real world actually looks like.”

She pulled up David. D4vd. The case that made her sick.

“Part of the reason I’m tucking this into the middle of the video is because YouTube keeps age-restricting me when I talk about David. Why is YouTube trying to protect him?”

She pulled up the update.

“The preliminary hearing for David Burke has been rescheduled for June 29th. His legal team requested more time to review a large amount of evidence. Forty-one terabytes. Including inappropriate content of children.”

She paused.

“June 29th is the big day. But we’ll see him at a status conference on June 17th.”

She pulled up the wink.

“This man is over here winking at his defense team in court. He’s loving this. Which makes it even more scary. He had all the money in the world. The fame. That wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to do something horrific—and now he’s happy to be in the courtroom.”

She pulled up the clip of his friend Neo. The bathroom audio.

“It’s kind of giving Harley Quinn.”

“Okay. Cute.”

“Where’s the body glitter from Claire’s?”

She paused the audio.

“In the background of this clip—you can hear David and Neo speaking. They’re casually talking about what they did to Celeste.”

She pulled up the transcript.

“And in the same video stream, there’s a moment where David seems nervous. The girls were trying to wander around the house. Remember—he claimed his house was stinking because he’d done a number two.”

She paused.

“I don’t know what you’re eating, David. But a number two doesn’t smell like rotting flesh.”

She pulled up the chainsaw detail.

“Why did David buy two chainsaws? One chainsaw is just enough. You would only need two if two people were working at the same time.”

She pulled up the autopsy.

“The bone cutting showed different levels of force. Different people using the tools. Different strengths.”

She pulled up her dad’s mechanic wisdom.

“My dad’s been a mechanic his whole life. I told him David bought two chainsaws. He said—’Why’d he buy two? No, they don’t break that easily. Did they arrest anybody else? No? Then why the f did he buy two? Somebody had to help him.’”

She nodded.

“Rest in peace to Celeste Rivas. We will be here fighting for you until there is justice.”

She pulled up the third hinge.

“David bought two chainsaws because one man can’t dismember a child alone. That’s not a theory. That’s physics.”

She pulled up Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds. The escape plan.

“Blake and Ryan are reportedly desperate to flee the US to escape the stress and misery from the Justin Baldoni settlement.”

She paused.

“Haven’t they learned from their buddy Ellen DeGeneres? Running away doesn’t make your problems disappear.”

She pulled up the insider quote.

“Even if they do it temporarily, they want to get away and clear their heads.”

She laughed.

“Blake Lively is known as the Hollywood mean girl. Not the it girl. The mean girl. And she needs to figure out how to fix that if she wants to stay in the industry.”

She pulled up the Europe home detail.

“They own a home in Europe. A perfect asylum away from the endless noise. They’ll almost certainly keep a base in the States. But at this point, it makes more sense for them to relocate for a while.”

She paused.

“The Amber Heard approach. Sure. But Amber’s not in a great place. She disappeared—and it made her look guilty. If Blake disappears now, same thing.”

She pulled up the comment.

“How do you escape yourself?”

Another: “Don’t let the door hit you.”

She pulled up the People magazine photos. Sixteen pictures. Blake and Ryan kissing. At 6:30 AM.

“Who asked for this? Which one of you went to bed last night and prayed to God—’I wonder what Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds’ PDA looks like’?”

She shook her head.

“What PR strategy is this?”

She pulled up the fourth hinge.

“Blake and Ryan want to escape the US. But you can’t flee bad press when you’re the one generating it.”

She pulled up Cardi B. The public fight. The embarrassment.

“I’m just tired of Cardi B embarrassing herself. I love you, Cardi. I think you’re a great woman. I don’t like this relationship with Stefon Diggs.”

She pulled up the viral clip. 1.3 million views. Cardi chewing out her man.

She pulled up Cardi’s response on X.

“Sometimes I forget I’m a celebrity. Damn, y’all ain’t never cuss your baby dad out when you’re hungry?”

She laughed.

“Literally, I relate to that this morning. I just wanted a McDonald’s hamburger. I’m in a hotel. Too shy to order. But it’s what I want. I’m just hungry. It put me in a bad mood.”

She paused.

“I get it, Cardi. I’d be arguing too. I just want a hamburger. Nothing on it. Fries. And a big Diet Coke.”

She pulled up the fan comment.

“No, they definitely were arguing. I was there. Had to wait until they stopped to get a pic.”

She laughed again.

“I love that the fans just waited on the sideline. ‘Okay, you get that fight through—then can we get a quick picture?’”

She pulled up the Super Bowl incident.

“Stefon Diggs had another woman hanging around him. Hanging out with his mom. He’s been a cheater since day one. I don’t understand why Cardi keeps going back.”

She paused.

“She has a type. A damn type. And it’s a cheating type.”

She pulled up the fifth hinge.

“Cardi B can cuss out her baby daddy in public. But until she leaves him, the only person she’s embarrassing is herself.”

She sat back. The screen cycled through them all. Kim. Kylie. Gypsy. James. David. Neo. Blake. Ryan. Cardi. Stefon.

“Six stories,” she said. “Six different kinds of dysfunction. And every single one of them is happening right now. In real time.”

She pulled up the final hinge.

“The internet never runs out of disasters. It just rotates who’s in the hot seat.”

She reached for her water.

“I hope you guys enjoyed this video. Let me know what you think in the comments. And if you enjoyed these multi-topic videos—you would love my Let’s Get Into It podcast.”

She set the glass down.

“We’re getting close to 300,000 subscribers over there. Please go check it out. Do something nice for your boy Sloan. It means a lot.”

She hovered over the stop button.

“Thank you for being here. I’ll see you very soon.”