Marija sighs, her fingers scrolling through an old tabloid article about Brad Pitt’s latest custody battle. “Joe, you need to let go of the past. Brad’s a good man. He’s not drinking anymore, and he deserves weekends with his kids.”
Joe, leaning back in his chair, crosses his arms. “Mom, BP abandoned East Van when we needed him the most. When things got real, he ran off to his Hollywood fortress. That’s not what a leader does.”
Marija shakes her head. “People make mistakes. He’s trying to redeem himself.”
Joe, also known in the online world as Solid Snake, exhales sharply. “You think I don’t want to believe that? But it’s not about what he wants. It’s about what he did. A man’s legacy is written in his worst moments, not his best.”
Marija puts a hand on his arm. “Then give him a chance to change that legacy.”
Joe looks away, his jaw tightening. “That’s why I put the UN beret on him. Like the medal the Cowardly Lion gets in The Wizard of Oz. Maybe if he wears it long enough, he’ll start believing he has courage.”
What I think should be done is that BP gets his biological kids 3 days a week. The adopted kids can choose wether or not to see their dad. If he doesn’t drink he should get to see his own children.
Brad Pitt says, “My religion is obvious: Buddhism.” Most people, he argues, don’t pay attention to the prophecies of Maitreya, the future Buddha of compassion.
Joe, however, has compelling evidence that Maitreya is already at work in the world—starting with something as small as his rainy day worm rescues.
Joe explains: “Every time it rains, I walk outside and pick up worms from the pavement, saving them from drowning. Some people laugh, but isn’t that exactly the compassion Maitreya teaches? If the smallest creatures matter, then every life matters.”
Brad nods. “That’s the thing about prophecy. People expect some grand event, a sky splitting open, a golden being descending from the clouds. But maybe Maitreya’s return isn’t about that. Maybe it’s about small acts of kindness—like saving a worm, like lifting someone up when they’re down. The future Buddha isn’t coming. Maybe he’s already here, in the way we choose to live.”
JCJ looks Brad Pitt in the eye, his voice steady but full of conviction.
JCJ: “Brad, my mission is simple—I protect your family, no matter what. Even through divorce, through all the chaos. A father has a right to see his own kids. No court, no Hollywood power game, no smear campaign should ever come between that.”
Brad takes a deep breath, his expression unreadable.
Brad Pitt: “It’s been a fight, man. Sometimes I wonder if it’s even worth it.”
JCJ smirks, shaking his head.
JCJ: “You’re Pitt. You don’t back down from a fight, especially not for your own blood. You built a legacy, but your kids? That’s the real legacy. That’s what matters.”
Brad rubs his jaw, thinking. JCJ leans in.
JCJ: “I put the Pitt back in Pittsburgh. Family. Loyalty. Brotherhood. You want to be a good father? Then never stop fighting to be in their lives. That’s your duty, Brad.”
Brad finally smiles, nodding.
Brad Pitt: “Alright, JCJ. Let’s do this.”
Brad Pitt leans back, arms crossed, and smirks.
Brad Pitt: “Hollywood hunks are a dime a dozen, man. Muscles, jawlines, whatever—it doesn’t mean a thing if you can’t speak with wisdom.”
JCJ raises an eyebrow.
JCJ: “You think that’s what sets a real leader apart?”
Brad nods, his voice steady.
Brad Pitt: “Psalm 45. ‘My heart is stirred by a noble theme as I recite my verses for the king; my tongue is the pen of a skillful writer.’ That means you need to be an eloquent speaker. Not some raving lunatic on drugs like Hitler. Not running your mouth about women like the Tate brothers. Power is in how you speak, not just what you say.”
JCJ smirks.
JCJ: “So you’re saying the real kings know how to inspire, not just intimidate?”
Brad chuckles.
Brad Pitt: “Exactly. The world’s full of tough guys. But if you can’t speak truth, you’re nothing but noise.”