Dear Bravo – and by Bravo, I clearly mean the executives in charge and not the inanimate brand. 
Let’s try that again.
Dear Executives aka Big Bananas in Charge at the cable station known as Bravo, 
I’ve been doing some thinking and I’ve decided that I needed to extend an invitation to you. I should totally be on the next branch of the Real Housewives series. I don’t even need to live in whatever city it’s based in, I will completely pretend to be a local. You see, I’ve watched just about every evolution of the Real Housewives, except Atlanta. For starters, I don’t particularly care about Atlanta. I have real visceral memories about Georgia from my childhood – mainly that it was oddly odoriferous and there was a dead fly incident at a fast food restaurant. I’ve been traumatized since. In fact, I’ve been trying to figure out how to get into Florida within a reasonable amount of time while still avoiding Georgia ever since. But I digress…where was I? Oh yes, so I’ve watched Orange County and New York and New Jersey, and it got me thinking about how essentially there are the same character prototypes on each show. I would be completely different and really feel that I could bring a new spark into the show. 
First of all, I’m not filthy stinking rich. Not even remotely. I get by, of course, but I’m not into ridiculous shopping sprees and designer shoes. In fact, I maybe only buy a pair of shoes once a year. That’s how cheap I am. I do, however, own quite a few Pez dispensers that would rival anyone’s stupidly overpriced statues. And you know what? Pez is real. Real people can relate to Pez. They can say “Oh, I could go out and get some of that right now”, unlike a useless chandelier worth more than most people’s cars. They can’t related to credit cards that are so elite that they’re invisible, or studded with diamonds, or bathed in the blood of young virgins. 
Second, all the cast members now are so out of their minds that I would look completely sane. I don’t have a big googly eye issue. I don’t throw tables and scream in unintelligible Italian. I don’t…whatever the hell they did in Orange County. But I don’t do it. 
Third, so you don’t think I’m completely boring, I tend to play the roles of instigator, devil’s advocate, and enabler of the crazy. I’ll be the person off to the side, cheering on the real crazies with soft whispers of encouragement and planting ridiculous thoughts of justification in their heads. “Yeah Ramona…climb up there and dance. You have the best dance moves. Everyone wants to see.”
Fourth, despite the aforementioned point, I have no interest in getting directly involved in drama. I’ll be the one, when there’s a serious bitch-fest going on, screaming “YEAH! Smack her in her ass face! That’ll teach her to fuck with your mom!” It’ll really warm the fight up to new heights.
Fifth, I can act out scripted scenes like they were natural. C’mon, it’s SO obvious when there’s a scripted scene planned. For starters, they’re always talking on speaker phone like their cell phone is some kind of Star Trek walkie. I’m a natural. When I say “So I heard you got crabs last week”, the audience will believe that I’m just bringing it up in natural conversation. 
I hope you take this request into serious consideration. If so, might I suggest that my “character” is never formally introduced, and that I just show up in random places like I’m supposed to be there? Let’s break away from the same ol’ formula of “spoiled rich woman gets a bunch of cosmetic surgery, then shops, then finds some reason to hate another spoiled rich woman.” 
Thank you for your time.