Two beautiful people, a spontaneous six-week courtship, that massive diamond, and millions of viewers across America—Ariana Grande and Pete Davidson did The Bachelor better than ABC ever could.

Who cares if the romance lasts? Not me. In the less than two months since the couple forwent their individual rooms (and moved in together), the duo has gotten multiple tribute tattoos, posted several viral Instagrams, and given us the internet sensation that is BDE.

As for the rush, who knows. The world is on fire. We could die tomorrow. Ariana Grande has a new album to sell. Pete Davidson probably just wants us to smile more. If it’s a stunt, fine—but it feels good. All I want now is for the nuptials to be televised.

While I wait for that, I’d like to turn our collective attention to what happens after the final rose; conventional #BachNation wisdom has it that the new Bachelorette be chosen from the previous show. The pool thus narrowed, the real selection process kicks off: The Bachelorette needs tousled waves, a good attitude, and white teeth. She must be pleasant, but with some lovable dint or quirk. She’s a “goofball” or she’s “competitive” or she loves beer. She has oversize flannel button-downs. She looks stupendous in sequins.

What the Bachelorette needs to be above all is a woman the audience wants to root for—pitiable, but not pathetic. Wounded, but not broken. Chill. A catch. A babe.

So, a proposal: If the Bachelorette is a scorned lover with some wit and nice hair, let’s give Cazzie David the job.

A David-led season is the reprieve this tainted franchise needs to survive. She’s certified hilarious. She has great brows. Last month, she claimed she’d become a “human bottle of wine,” a feat which would well serve the drunken antics and general suspension of common sense that the show demands. Andrew Firestone could boast of his tire fortune, sure. And Lorenzo Borghese was a “prince.” But David is a genuine comedic heiress. A hometown date with Larry David? The fact that an event so ripe for ridicule hasn’t been an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm until now is criminal.

Plus, the timeline fits. Davidson and David broke up less than 12 weeks ago. (So the heartbreak is fresh, which we know is how ABC likes it.) Some 100 hours later, news spread that he’d moved on with Grande. Soon, he’d covered up a tattoo of David’s face and announced his plans to wed.

And though David wouldn’t choose her suitors, I feel certain her involvement would lead to a better slate of candidates. She once wore Rachel Green’s face on a shirt—and she looked good.

Go ahead and tell me it’ll never happen. That David is too cool. That she’ll meet someone on Tinder for celebrities or have her pal Lorde fix her up with a New Zealander and be just fine. I beg to differ. Cazzie David is a person whose ex has vowed eternal devotion to a ponytail icon in less time than it’s taken me to return all the J.Crew swimsuits I ordered this summer.

Cazzie David wants the roses.

She wants the one-on-ones and the cocktail parties, and here is the evidence.

Her most recent Instagram features a miniscule red bikini, waves that plead for a Pantene Pro-V sponsorship, an even tan, and the ultimate tell—an open (color-coordinated) sleeve of Haribo gummies. It screams, “I’m hot, but I love artificial food colors.” Or perhaps, “Behold, the revenge bod that red wine and fructose built.” It’s a billboard, and it declares, “I have that BDE too.”

Love her, but Becca Kufrin could never.

What I mean is: Chris Harrison, please call me. I need a cut of this deal.

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