You are not getting a pizza party. You are no longer getting a pizza party. Do you hear me? The pizza party is off. You were getting a pizza party, but now you’re not. Consider yourself fallen from a previous condition of pizza-party worthiness. The only relationship you have to a pizza party today is not anymore. Everyone else is getting a pizza party. You hear that next door? That’s their pizza party, just getting started. Yours is only getting further and further away. It’s gone already, but it’ll be even more gone five minutes from now; the gone-ness of your pizza party is simultaneously full and complete and perfect, yet ever-expanding, ever-increasing, ever-multiplying, too. Consider that pizza party of yours officially over. In fact, we’re making an exception for you, and making a note that you are never to receive a pizza party in future, no matter how exemplary your behavior is. Other rewards may come — other leaders, who were not here on this day to see your true venality, might be tempted to fête you — but the memory of this transgression will live forever. For you there will never be a pizza party. You lack the qualifications, the standing, the sponsor. No one will vouch for you. No one will unlock the door for you. No one will save you a slice for after in their napkin. Pizza-party-wise, you’re finished in this town. Do you hear me? You’re done. Maybe someday you’ll buy a pizza for yourself, but it won’t be the same. It won’t be a pizza party, and you won’t have earned it. None of you have.