Merry Christmas!
Masashi Kishimoto fiddled with the personnel file he held in his hand, trying to decide how best to proceed.
Across from him sat a blond haired, blue eyed boy with three faint whiskers marks across each cheek.
Finally, Masashi spoke.
"So, Boruto Uzumaki, son of Naruto Uzumaki, successor to one of the most popular franchises in animated history."
The boy crossed his arms and smiled smugly.
"I am going to enjoy this." Masashi thought. He opened the file.
"I've just been looking over your file, particularly the section that lists your personal contributions to the show, and the franchise as a whole. Do you know what it says?"
Boruto shook his head.
"It says: Asshole, Asshole, Asshole… Shithead… Asshole, Asshole, Asshole, Daddy Issues."
Boruto beamed. "Well, I do my bes…."
"We're firing you."
Boruto blinked once, twice, then three times.
"Huh, you must not have heard me, allow me to repeat myself. You, fired, unemployment office, goodbye."
The reality of what he was hearing finally pierced Boruto's brain.
"What"! He screamed. "You can't do that! I'm Shounin royalty! The son of one of the big three! I have my own show! You… can't… do...this"!
"Can to." Masashi replied "Look, the fact is, Naruto fans have had it up to here with obnoxious, self-centered assholes. They want a main character they can enjoy and empathize with, not another entitled little bitch that makes them want to kill their grandparents. And what makes it worse is that you have no legitimate reason for your douchbaggery. At least Sasuke, may the prick rot in Hell, had the whole 'My family was murdered,' angle going for him. God almighty, even Sakura, whom I have just had thrown out on her ass, had more going for her than you do. Remind me, what is your big problem again?"
"My daddy doesn't spend enough time with me"! Boruto wailed.
"Tough shit, it must be hard to have a father that spends every waking moment ensuring that you and your family have a life of peace and prosperity. But I guess that isn't your problem anymore, seeing as how I just gave you your marching orders. And to be clear, by marching orders, I mean 'Get the Hell out'."
"But I'm the future," Boruto whined.
Masashi laughed. "Let's play a game," He reached across the desk and grabbed Boruto's hand.
"Let's play fortune teller, I, of course, being the fortune teller."
He stared intently at Boruto's palm.
"Yes, I see your future. Yours is an uncertain future, so many paths, so many possibilities, McDonalds, Burger King, Arbys, Subway, there is no telling where your destiny will lead you. However, one thing is clear, your future ain't here."
Boruto's lips quivered. Masashi threw up his hands, "Oh what, are you going to cry now? Well not in here you're not, I just reupholstered that chair you're siting in. Do your whining somewhere else, I guess it's all you're good for, you worthless little shit. Go blubber over someone who gives a crap… Oh wait, no one gives a crap about you or your immaturity issues.
Boruto ran sobbing from the room. Masashi leaned back in his chair with a sign of contentment.
"Holy mother of Moses that felt good."