Well there goes 90% of the show, so no, you get the long version now.
We’re both standing in the middle of a soundstage (lit like a European discotheque), and you whisper-talk at me at a volume 0.01% louder than the score:
“I’d love to hear some of these examples of badwriting in the show! You can feel free to skip all of the overwrought metaphors.”
and I respond
“Well if I skip the ‘overwrought metaphors’, I seriously doubt I’ll have anything left to talk about!” then you say something about how hard this is on you emotionally, I quietly affirm that I’m here for you, then you bitterly reject it, and then I pinch off a pithy-sounding bon mot that’s actually nonsense, and walk off, leaving you standing stock-still in the grip of Powerful Emotions. Then we repeat all of this six more times, taking breaks for vomit-inducing scenes where 15,000 suicidally depressed animators shove every single item in the effects library onto the screen.
But seriously, I know you’re just sea lioning. It’s not possible to ask that question in good faith. Imagine if I snottily asked you to give me an example of bad writing in 1994’s It’s Pat, you would tell me “uh, fucking everything, piss off” and you’d be right to.