In the ephemeral world of daytime drama, viewer loyalty is the most precious and fragile commodity. When that loyalty is stretched too thin—or, in the case of the recent General Hospital storyline, violently snapped—the resulting backlash can be immediate, intense, and emotionally charged. The December 2, 2025, episode delivered a gut-wrenching revelation—that the upstanding Curtis Ashford was the mastermind who offered Selina Wu a million dollars to kill Drew Cain—and for a legion of long-time fans, this was the final, devastating straw that pushed them over the edge.

The consensus among many viewers, as evidenced by the widespread and furious social media commentary, is simple and unyielding: “I’m done! I think all the writers need to be fired and a new crew brought in!”

This powerful and collective call for the immediate dismissal of the current writing team is not merely a reaction to a single plot twist; it is the culmination of months of frustration over what many perceive as a fundamental disregard for established character continuity and the emotional investment of the audience. The betrayal of Curtis Ashford’s character legacy is seen as the most egregious recent example of a show prioritizing sensational shock value over coherent storytelling.

The Anatomy of a Character Assassination
Curtis Ashford, played by the talented Donnell Turner, was carefully established as a reformed, moral figure. He was a steady presence on the canvas, a successful private investigator, and a loving husband whose past criminal mistakes had been redeemed. He represented a safe harbor for his family in a city perpetually dominated by mob chaos.

The discovery that he initiated a million-dollar, premeditated murder-for-hire plot against Drew Cain—an attempt to execute a man—shatters this entire framework.

Violation of Core Values: For Curtis to actively collaborate with a dangerous mob boss like Selina Wu and organize a contract killing is antithetical to his decades-long journey toward redemption and his role as a protector of his family. It fundamentally corrupts his character to the point of being unrecognizable.

The Logistical Insult: Fans question the abrupt and unbelievable logistics. Where did Curtis, a private investigator and nightclub owner, suddenly source a million dollars for a hit? This narrative lapse further fuels the perception that the writers manufactured a shock twist without bothering to lay the necessary groundwork.

Emotional Betrayal: The emotional cost is immense. Viewers who rooted for his marriage to Portia, celebrated his relationship with TJ, and admired his steady nature now feel that their years of investment were wasted on a character whose core morality was disposable.

The feeling of being “pushed over the edge” stems from this deep sense of betrayal—the character they invested in is gone, sacrificed on the altar of a sensational plot device.

The Historical Context: The Call for New Writers
The demand to “fire all the writers” is not a new phenomenon in daytime television, but it signals a deep crisis of confidence in the show’s current creative direction.

General Hospital has seen a turbulent writing environment in recent years, with frequent changes in the co-head writer roles. While the current team includes long-time veterans who are theoretically equipped to handle the show’s complex history, viewers feel recent storylines—such as the drawn-out saga of Willow’s illness, the repeated romantic pairings, and now this dark turn for Curtis—demonstrate a failure to sustain meaningful, consistent long-term narratives.

The consensus among the revolting fanbase is that the writing is suffering from:

Short-Term Shock Focus: Storylines are designed to maximize short-term “shock” (like the revelation of Curtis’s actions) rather than building logical, emotionally earned drama.

Lack of Character Respect: Major character motivations are twisted or ignored if they impede a desired plot point.

Cyclical Storytelling: Many viewers feel they are watching the same old plot cycles repeat, but with less commitment to the characters’ fundamental personalities.

For the viewers who are “done,” the plea for a “new crew” is a desperate hope for a creative reset—a team that will prioritize character-driven storytelling, narrative consistency, and respect for the show’s rich history over manufactured suspense.

The Consequences: A Legacy Hangs in the Balance
The immediate consequence of this intense fan backlash is the threat of an audience exodus. For a show that relies heavily on viewer retention and passionate engagement, a mass declaration of “I’m done!” is the most serious threat possible.

Beyond the ratings, the storyline has massive narrative consequences that further provoke fan discussion:

Curtis’s Exit: If Curtis is arrested and jailed, the show will lose a major character and an actor highly valued by the audience. The narrative necessity of filling that space is what is now generating the most interest.

The Rise of a New Legacy: As many fans are theorizing, Curtis’s fall could be the perfect setup for the show to introduce a new, morally complex male figure—perhaps the return of Shawn Butler, TJ’s biological father, or a full-time contract for Zeke Robinson, TJ’s uncle. The potential for one legacy to fade just as another rises is a thrilling possibility, but one that is only born out of the destruction of Curtis Ashford.

The December 2nd episode has not just created an on-screen crisis; it has exposed a profound off-screen disconnect between the writers and the long-time viewers they rely upon. The current story development is the ultimate test of audience loyalty, and the unified cry to fire the writers confirms that for many, the cost of the Curtis Ashford betrayal was simply too high.