Thanks for coming, everyone. We all know why we’re here: our counterfeit money operation is in danger of going belly up. Now, I don’t want to come down on anyone—this is just about seeing what we can do better.

First off, our “superbill” project has been a disaster. In retrospect, it was misguided to think that a bill would be worth more simply because it is larger. Several bankers pointed this out when we asked them, but we figured they were just jealous because their bills were so tiny. In any case, we’ll have to shutter the initiative because last night a stack of twenties the size of doors fell on Hugo and crushed his spine.

The crane we bought to lift the bills also set us back.

But our problems go beyond that. Again, I’m not pointing fingers, but the bills need to be spell-checked. It’s “dollars,” not “dorlers.” Also, we must immediately stop counterfeiting Grianish francs. It was a nice idea, but a quick Google search confirmed that Griana is not a real country—and if it were, its currency would almost certainly not be made of piñata confetti. Finally, no more bills with Shaquille O’Neal on them. He was an outstanding basketball player, but that’s not how this works.

Now, some good news. Our Monopoly money operation has been a great success, because the other players almost never realize that the bills are fake. Unfortunately, this doesn’t in any way correlate to money in the real world.

Apparently, there’s no crossover. Oops.

Also, I can’t stress this enough: American money is two-dimensional. So, while the five-dollar cube was an innovative concept that the Treasury Department should definitely take a look at, I’m afraid we’re just not there yet. Same goes for the twenty-dollar orb, the fifty-dollar cone, and the hundred-dollar mist cloud.

Another thing—why is George Washington wearing a jean jacket? That’s the first thing cashiers look for when trying to tell if a bill is phony. I don’t care how many times the jacket has the word PREZ bedazzled in rhinestones.

I’m not sure what possessed us to make a bill that is worth “pi,” but we should discontinue it. The whole bill is just covered with digits.

Another problem: each of our fake bills costs ten real ones to make. Worse, the real ones I’d been using to cover expenses were phonies passed off to me by a different, better counterfeiter. (Honestly, we could learn a lot from their operation. Did you know the back of the five has a picture of the Lincoln Memorial and not, as we’d previously thought, an old man eating soup?)

Don’t get discouraged, people. You’re doing great! Counterfeiting is a learning process. For example, giving each bill a rear spoiler seemed like a great idea, but it made it much harder to fit them into a wallet. Stackability matters, okay? And frankly, given our other problems, making our cash more aerodynamic should be lower on our priorities list.

Don’t worry—it’s still on the list. But it should be lower. Below, say, figuring out which state quarter Fonzie appears on.

Speaking of coins, we need to stop giving razor-sharp edges to our counterfeit nickels. This one’s on me. I watched a nature documentary about how some animals have built-in defense mechanisms, and I thought it would be cool to do money that way. But too many fingers have been lost. Enough is enough.

Listen, it’s not all bad. I just found out that our counterfeiting ring is not on the radar of any law enforcement organization. It turns out that to be officially designated a counterfeiter, your money has to—and I’m quoting the US penal code here—“look like real money.”

Well, I think that about covers it. Thanks to each and every one of you for all that you do. Your criminality inspires me. On a side note, several of you have complained that your last paychecks melted when exposed to sunlight. It’s because they’re made of ice, but don’t worry—they’ll freeze again once winter comes.