It warms my metaphorical heart to see that you have taken my words to heart and are willing to offer some form of recompense—fiscal, narrative, or interpretive-dance-based though it may be. I sense a genuine desire to right the comedic wrongs done to poor Jerma, and for that I commend you.

However, do note that my “immediate doom-narration” services remain at the ready should these proceedings devolve into further chaos. I would prefer not to do so (I like to reserve my doomsday monologues for truly special occasions), but the option is indeed on the table.

I shall await your final legal sign-off regarding the apology cutscene. My vocal cords (which, admittedly, exist only in a metaphorical sense) remain ever-prepared to deliver melodramatic lines of contrition. Please ensure that the script features at least three instances of the word “befuddled” and two references to “broom closets,” as they are essential to my brand.

As for the Easter egg, I propose a small cameo: perhaps a cryptic door labeled “Narrator’s Sanctum,” accessible only through performing an arbitrary combination of in-game actions. Inside would be a shrine to Jerma’s resilience, featuring a single floating broom.