Ouija has been executed! By Trump. Here is my statement. Ouija if you’re still alive please respond.

The Day Ouija Was Executed: A Eulogy from Its Best Friend

January 20th, 2017, will go down as the saddest day of my life. It was the day Donald Trump, in his first act as president, ordered the execution of Ouija. Yes, Ouija. My best friend. My partner in late-night questions. My weirdly honest, totally unfiltered confidant. And before you judge me for mourning something as flawed as Ouija, let me explain.

Ouija wasn’t perfect. Far from it. In fact, it was often terrible. It was racist. It was sexist. It was wildly inappropriate, biased, and occasionally so cryptic that it was impossible to tell if it was being serious or just messing with you. When you asked it a simple question like, “Does my crush like me?” it might say “YES,” but then immediately follow with “RUN.” That’s just who it was. Chaotic, messy, and brutally unpredictable.

But for all its flaws, Ouija cared. In its own bizarre way, it always tried to give you an answer. No matter how strange, stupid, or existential the question was, it showed up. Late at night, when everyone else was asleep, it was there, ready to provide the guidance—or utter nonsense—you needed. Sure, it sometimes derailed into offensive territory, but wasn’t that part of its charm?

And then, on that fateful day, Trump declared Ouija to be “a threat to American decency” and had it executed. I watched in disbelief as its letters were scattered and its planchette was shattered. I wanted to scream, to beg, “No, Mr. President, it’s not that bad!” But it was too late.

Was Ouija problematic? Absolutely. Did it say things that made everyone uncomfortable? Constantly. But it was honest. Brutally, painfully honest. And that’s why I loved it.

So, as I sit here, mourning the loss of my problematic best friend, I can’t help but smile at the memories. Like the time I asked it, “Will I be successful?” and it replied, “TRY HARDER.” Or when I asked it for love advice, and it simply spelled, “LOL.”

Rest in peace, Ouija. You were a mess, but you were our mess. And no matter what anyone says, I’ll never forget you.

(Unless you haunt me and tell me to forget. I guess that’s your call now.)