91Ƭվ walks into a big corner office in Meta’s HQ and sees Threads lounging in a big seat.
Threads: Welcome!
91Ƭվ looks around the office.
Threads: You like it, right? It’s mine.
91Ƭվ: Is it?
Threads: I have my own computer and chair, and look at my coffee station.
91Ƭվ looks at what Threads is pointing at — a tray with 3-in-1 coffee sachets, two plastic cups and a hot water flask.
91Ƭվ: So you left Twitter for…
Threads flies out of her executive chair and shuts the door.
Threads: Don’t say that name here.
91Ƭվ: But that’s your former employer.
Threads: Please, the fact that people make a couple threads on that app doesn’t mean anything. I’m my own boss now.
91Ƭվ: You answer to Instagram and Meta, so technically, you’re not.
Threads:
Did they send you?
91Ƭվ: Who?
Threads: (whispers) Twitter.
91Ƭվ: 
Threads: 30 million sign ups in less than 24 hours is not beans o. They must be astonished by my good fortune.
91Ƭվ: Okay, that was actually impressive. How did you do that?
Threads:
What can I say? The work speaks for itself.
91Ƭվ: 
Threads: Look, it’s not my fault that app is going to shit. I didn’t tell anybody to put a daily limit on tweets or to make videos stop in the middle and start playing from the top again. I didn’t ask anyone to make their app glitch. It just did.
91Ƭվ: The app started to behave one kind sha.
Threads: Okay, you too you’re seeing it. That’s why I made my app. It’s a safe space for all who are tired of that mess. You already know the people on the app. You just have to sign in and… thread?
91Ƭվ: 
Thread: Tread carefully.
91Ƭվ: 
Threads: Yeah, me neither. Sew?
91Ƭվ: It’s not the worst. But “Tweet” still sounds better sha.
Threads: I’ll think up something better later.
