Dear Indiana Jones,
I’ve always loved you since I was a little girl.
Actually, I did go through a phase where I wasn’t that into you, but that’s because my brother was going through a phase where he wore khakis and a fedora, carried a whip, and wanted to be an archeologist, and it just felt wrong to love you then.
But other than that, I have always, always loved you.
(About as much as I love Han Solo.)
Which is why I think we should get married.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I think Marion Ravenwood is, like, the perfect girl for you. Hell, I think Marion Ravenwood is, like, the perfect girl, full stop. She’s brave, beautiful, can handle alcohol well, and she just seems really like a lot of fun to be around.
There’s only one problem with Marion Ravenwood, Indiana. When you procreate with her, you create a Shia LeBeouf.
And that’s terrible. That’s just terrible.
Now I, on the other hand, have a beautiful, talented, non-plagiarizing daughter, so you wouldn’t have to worry about that sort of thing.
So, let’s get married.
Just you, me and your whip.