“Please, Chainsaw, you’re my only hope,” Meghan pleaded, her voice laced with an uncharacteristic desperation. She sat across from the infamous Chainsaw Chicken, who, despite being confused about who he actually is, exuded an aura of marketing genius and an undeniable online presence. His huge personality, yet menacing presence, Chainsaw gleamed under the opulent chandelier in her Montecito office.
Chainsaw chortled, a sound that somehow conveyed profound skepticism. “So, the Duchess of Sussex, begging me for help? The one who supposedly ‘revolutionized’ everything? I’ve got more followers on my site and newsletter than you do engaged fans, sweetheart.” He gestured with a random finger, nearly nicking a signed photo of herself.
“And trust me, my true observations of family, friends and history are genuinely popular.”
Meghan winced. “I know, Chainsaw, I know. And that’s precisely why I need you. My team, they’re brilliant, but they don’t have… your edge. Your raw, undeniable, universal appeal. People either love or fear you, but they can’t ignore you. I, on the other hand…” She trailed off, a hint of genuine pain in her eyes. “Well, you know the narrative. Generally disliked by most people, apparently.”
“Let’s cut to the chase, literally,” Chainsaw squawked, shifting in his seat. “What’s the plan? And how do you expect me,  with my experience,  to fix ‘that you are generally disliked by most people’?”
“That’s just it, Chainsaw! I need to change that narrative!” Meghan leaned forward, clasping her hands. “We’ve got Archewell, our foundation and production company. We’ve done the Netflix docuseries, Harry & Meghan, Live to Lead, Heart of Invictus. All generally failures to actually put eyes on the screen, asses in the seats. And my new lifestyle show, With Love, Meghan, just got renewed! Then there’s Harry’s polo series, And NO, it’s not about his wedding tackle being bounced around by me.. We’re even turning a book into a movie, Meet Me at the Lake.”
Chainsaw just tilted his head. “So, more TV. Gee… that so Groundbreaking. Is that supposed to make people suddenly adore you? Because last I checked, streaming numbers don’t always translate to public affection. You might as well go with remake of Gilligan’s Island”
“No, no, there’s more!” Meghan insisted. “I’m bringing back my podcast,
“Boring!!!” Chainsaw scoffed. “Do you truly think a podcast is going to make people forget… everything else? My posts on my website gets more engagement. People just want to hear me and my thoughts, plain and simple.”
“But this is where you, Chainsaw, truly shine!” Meghan’s eyes lit up. “As Ever,” she announced, holding up a beautifully branded jar of raspberry jam. “It’s my new lifestyle brand. It’s about food, gardening, entertaining, thoughtful living for people that have no restrictions as to costs, desires or availability!”
Chainsaw took a cautious sniff of the jam. “So, you’re selling glorified jam and teacups to fix your image? And you expect me, the king of viral marketing, to make that relatable to the masses?” He poked inside the jar deep into the jam with his finger. He tasted it. 
Meghan scowled and muttered “You can keep that jar”.
“But it’s about authenticity, Chainsaw! It’s about showing who I truly am, beyond the headlines!” Meghan pleaded. “I’ve even put together a ShopMy page, sharing products I genuinely love. And my investments! Clevr Blends, Ethic, Cesta Collective – they’re all companies I believe in!”
Chainsaw snorted, a sound that somehow managed to convey both boredom and profound cynicism. “Look, Your Royal Duchessmess. People don’t buy products, they buy stories. And right now, your story, as perceived by many, is… privilege.  My story is simple: I’m a Chainsaw Chicken and I tell it like it is. People get it.”
Chainsaw continued. “You want to be half as popular as me? You need to stop trying so hard to be ‘thoughtful’ and ’empowering’ and just… be. Or, failing that, Show everyone that you don’t have Harry’s equipment in a shoe box in your dresser.”
Meghan sighed, looking at Chainsaw, then back at her own perfectly manicured hands. “I don’t think I can be you, and think like you, Chainsaw. In fact, if Harry was out of the picture I would try to pry my hooks into you, at some point.”
“Easy there!,” Chainsaw warned. “If you’re serious about shaking off that ‘generally disliked’ tag, you need a hook. Something people can’t ignore, something that cuts through the noise. And trust me, nothing cuts like reality.” Why don’t you start dishing dirt on  the other in ‘the family’?
He hopped off the desk, leaving Meghan to ponder the rather aggressive marketing advice. “So, what’s it going to be, Duchessness? Do you want to try and be ‘liked,’ or do you want to be known?”