‘And Just Like That’ needs to kill Samantha Jones

HBO is Jonesing for a takedown. And I am more than happy to oblige.

That’s because “And Just Like That…,” the offensively terrible “Sex and the City” sequel series, is coming back for a second season of untold horrors and debasement on HBO Max.

Mad Max is more like it. Those fools are still dragging innocent Samantha Jones into their utter disgrace. 

Last December, “And Just Like That…” — which was an obvious disaster from day one — incredibly proved worse than anybody feared. An astounding feat for something that followed the movie “Sex and the City 2,” which had Liza Minelli perform “Single Ladies” and featured the line of dialogue “Abu Dhabi Doo!”

On “AJLT,” Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) fumbled about trying and failing to be woke while becoming a full-fledged alcoholic; Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker) said the word “podcast” like it was in Cantonese and Kristin Davis as Charlotte seemingly lost the ability to act. 

And who can forget Che Diaz (Sara Ramirez), television’s most hated character for good reason? 

The whole self-indulgent debacle made me madder than Carrie when she was forced to take off her Blahniks at Kyra’s baby welcoming party. I sobbed like Mr. Big left me at the altar.

The new show had turned Carrie, Charlotte and Miranda into bozos. Gone was the sophisticated insider glimpse into the poshest corners of Manhattan — and in its place was “Meet The Fockers” on the Hudson. 

Worst of all, floating around like a phantom limb was the comedy icon that made the original series pop — Kim Cattrall as sexy power publicist Samantha Jones. 

She was kept around in pathetic and awkward text-message sequences from her new abode in London. We never saw her face, only her missives to Carrie. The unsatisfying workaround felt like a dig at Cattrall, who publicly refused to participate in the sequel. In retrospect, the woman is a certifiable genius.

But, since Season 2 of this abomination is going ahead anyway, and villainous creator Michael Patrick King confirmed to Variety that Carrie and Samantha will continue to type away on their mobile phones, there is only one respectable course of action: Samantha Jones must be killed. 

A writers room assassination can maintain the beloved character’s dignity before it’s too late, and she suffers the same embarrassing fate as her former pals — forever laughingstocks.

Perhaps we learn that Samantha was having sex on a balcony along the Thames, fell into the river and perished. Maybe Smith Jerrod, the Absolut Hunk, murdered her and a buzzy trial ensued. She could take a spin on Mr. Big’s Peloton. Whatever.

However, Samantha simply cannot continue to be associated with this heinous show, the main function of which is to be mocked at gay bars.

Let’s create a Change.org petition, and make HBO send Samantha Jones six feet under.