“I’ve never written a word in my life,” Kylie says. “I mean, the things you’re saying about me are really nice, considering, but they just aren’t true. I just thought I’d be able to see the show better from up here. I had no idea that the people up here were putting on the show. To be honest, I’m a bit embarrassed.” She smirks at the crowd, and waits a few seconds. “Okay,” she says. A few people laugh, but not all of them. I guess maybe they think she’s serious. “No, I’m kidding. I didn’t just come up here for a better view. The seats look more comfortable.” A little more laughter. “And I have written a word in my life. But just one.” She sighs. “I wrote one word, hundreds of thousands of times. The problem is, I keep spelling it differently. And, by some weird coincidence, all my misspellings, when strung together, give the illusion of content and of coherence. That’s how I ended up here. One word. Bad spelling.” She smiles again. She looks at me. I’m having trouble not laughing.