Nintendo ruined my life!
[The following was found in Nintendo's mailbox; after narrowly avoiding the EarthBound Mail Incinerator it was smuggled out by a cowboy-sympathizing Nintendo Power Classified Information agent in a plain manilla envelope. When the Ninthorities tracked his Nintendo DS wi-fi signal to a seedy motel in Springfield, Illinois, he folded it into a paper airplane--one of those cool ones that actually works that you always see in the movies--and threw it off the balcony, where a Providential wind carried it over the pool and through the open window of my air conditionless car. Once I had recovered from the subsequent car accident and regained use of my arms, I reproduced it verbatim, except for the part where he kept adding "e" to the end of words. Stupid cowboys. -Liar]
To whom it may concern,
If a guy saves the world in a videogame, and nobody's there to play it, does he still get all of the adoring fans and ladies at the end? I'll tell you what he does, he sits in a bar and brags about it until the bouncer, who thinks he's had one pint of coffee too many, throws him out and gets mud all over his cool trenchcoat.
Look, guys, I don't know what your problem was with my adventure; maybe you thought the Americans wouldn't buy it--even though I have it on good faith that Americans love cowboys, even more than they do weird Japanese characters with bugeyes--or maybe you thought it was too close to the Gamecube's release or something--fat lot of good that did for the Gamecube, though, right?
But come on, you don't think Ness and Ninten lord their achievements over me every single day on the backlots? I'll tell you how bad it's gotten: a few years back, when they were shooting for that Smash Brothers Melee game in Fourside, I decided I'd go over there and watch them do it. I figure it's good for franchise morale, and all that.
You know what happened? Freaking Miyamato walked over and handed me a broom. Yeah, he thought I was the janitor. I don't know, I've never seen a janitor with such a mysterious demeanor, or pensive look, or cool hat--but that should explain what you canceling my game has wrought.
Or maybe this: I had a sponsorship deal all set up with TV Land back in 1996! they told me I might even land a bit part when they did the computer-animated version of Bonanza! You know what happened last week? They shut my cable off. Ironic enough to be a bad pun in the New Yorker, huh? Well I'm not laughing; doing bit parts in every programming hack's wild west ripoff of Grand Theft Auto only pays so much. I have two children, a blocky dog, and a wife who appears in a flashback to feed! But instead of pulling in royalties for another cult classic RPG I'm calling every Namco, Konami and Acclaim out there to see if they need a big guy for the hero to beat up. My agent isn't even returning my calls!
So look, friends, I don't care what your reasoning was. Just think about guys like us before you go around canceling our star vehicles. I'd write more, but the guys from Dinosaur Planet just showed up--we canceled characters stick together. They're gonna take Bones to the vet, he's gotten even thinner in the last few years. Worms. Maybe even trojan horses, we aren't sure. Yeah, you should feel guilty, Hiroshi.
Give my regards to Mario, the lucky punk,
-Flint
[The following was found in Nintendo's mailbox; after narrowly avoiding the EarthBound Mail Incinerator it was smuggled out by a cowboy-sympathizing Nintendo Power Classified Information agent in a plain manilla envelope. When the Ninthorities tracked his Nintendo DS wi-fi signal to a seedy motel in Springfield, Illinois, he folded it into a paper airplane--one of those cool ones that actually works that you always see in the movies--and threw it off the balcony, where a Providential wind carried it over the pool and through the open window of my air conditionless car. Once I had recovered from the subsequent car accident and regained use of my arms, I reproduced it verbatim, except for the part where he kept adding "e" to the end of words. Stupid cowboys. -Liar]
To whom it may concern,
If a guy saves the world in a videogame, and nobody's there to play it, does he still get all of the adoring fans and ladies at the end? I'll tell you what he does, he sits in a bar and brags about it until the bouncer, who thinks he's had one pint of coffee too many, throws him out and gets mud all over his cool trenchcoat.
Look, guys, I don't know what your problem was with my adventure; maybe you thought the Americans wouldn't buy it--even though I have it on good faith that Americans love cowboys, even more than they do weird Japanese characters with bugeyes--or maybe you thought it was too close to the Gamecube's release or something--fat lot of good that did for the Gamecube, though, right?
But come on, you don't think Ness and Ninten lord their achievements over me every single day on the backlots? I'll tell you how bad it's gotten: a few years back, when they were shooting for that Smash Brothers Melee game in Fourside, I decided I'd go over there and watch them do it. I figure it's good for franchise morale, and all that.
You know what happened? Freaking Miyamato walked over and handed me a broom. Yeah, he thought I was the janitor. I don't know, I've never seen a janitor with such a mysterious demeanor, or pensive look, or cool hat--but that should explain what you canceling my game has wrought.
Or maybe this: I had a sponsorship deal all set up with TV Land back in 1996! they told me I might even land a bit part when they did the computer-animated version of Bonanza! You know what happened last week? They shut my cable off. Ironic enough to be a bad pun in the New Yorker, huh? Well I'm not laughing; doing bit parts in every programming hack's wild west ripoff of Grand Theft Auto only pays so much. I have two children, a blocky dog, and a wife who appears in a flashback to feed! But instead of pulling in royalties for another cult classic RPG I'm calling every Namco, Konami and Acclaim out there to see if they need a big guy for the hero to beat up. My agent isn't even returning my calls!
So look, friends, I don't care what your reasoning was. Just think about guys like us before you go around canceling our star vehicles. I'd write more, but the guys from Dinosaur Planet just showed up--we canceled characters stick together. They're gonna take Bones to the vet, he's gotten even thinner in the last few years. Worms. Maybe even trojan horses, we aren't sure. Yeah, you should feel guilty, Hiroshi.
Give my regards to Mario, the lucky punk,
-Flint
