How about five bullet points justifying your continued need to exist - ASAP!
This, of course, is only how I imagine and wish things would work out for all those affected...
The DOGE staffer lingered impatiently near the office machine. Wearing a black hoodie screen printed with the words SUCKS NOT TO BE ME, his pale skinny arms were crossed and ear buds protruded from under unkempt hair. "What the fuck is taking so fucking long?" he mumbled to nobody in particular. Finally, the page unfurled itself from the printer. The young man, all of nineteen and six months out of college - not having graduated but rather having dropped out since he deemed "all of it simply a waste of his time" - looked admiringly at the page. In bold twenty four point New York Times font letters atop an otherwise still crisp white sheet were the words FIVE BULLET POINTS JUSTIFYING YOUR CONTINUED NEED TO EXIST. Just below, in a font half this size were the words Due Today.
In long strides, the DOGE staffer made his way to the office of the Agency manager. The manager, a fifty two year old man who had worked at the Agency for thirty years affected a weak smile when the DOGE staffer entered his office. "Five hundred of these go out right now. Not even now. Like yesterday now." The pinstripe suited manager peered at the freshly printed page. "You don't think this is a little vague?" The kid from DOGE was perplexed. "What do you mean? It's perfect." Through progressive lenses, the manager peered at the acne faced young Republican before him. "I just think you could use a little context. Today could be any day. Monday will be today if I'm reading this on Monday." Feeling chastised, the boy thought how much he hated old people. "Okay then. I want your answer in ten minutes."
Once the DOGE staffer had left, the manager began to reflect on all that had been accomplished during his time at the Agency. When he first started out, the Agency wasn't a true reflection of America. How did we ever get anything done back in the day? he thought to himself. Not enough perspective. Not enough curiosity. His father had been a schoolteacher and had taught him at an early age that, in order to be an effective communicator, one needed to be able to inhabit one's audience. Having adapted and evolved over the years, the Agency was now a microcosm of America and better for it. Looking hard at the page before him, the manager thought about all the people, places and things in his life that mattered the most. Inhabiting his audience, the words flowed easily onto the page.
Five minutes later and on his way out of an office he knew he'd never again see, the Agency man handed his response to the boy from DOGE. Then, he loosened his tie just a little bit and decided that the rest of his life was going to begin with walking his dog. Struggling to phonetically sound out the words, the boy looked around helplessly at an office whose personnel and mission were alien to him. In big black cursive text, nearly unintelligible to the kid, the Agency man had written the words To remain and forever be unbroken.