The Open Road – Letter 10

Mr. Miller,

Eddie’s been working at the studio for over a week and STILL no one has asked him to pitch his movie idea! It must be the economy. Since when can’t a guy get a job as a security guard and be able to openly discuss all his amazing ideas with all the high-ranking executives of the company? WHAT KIND OF WORLD ARE WE LIVING IN?!

I think it’s time we took matters into our own hands. We’re sneaking into the offices tomorrow night and replacing every script with trucking Royalty. It’s simple, really. I’ll dress up as Orlando Bloom in The Lord of the Rings (the most epic buddy flick ever) and Eddie will dress up as Burt Reynolds because that’s the only thing he can pull off with that mustache. Once we’re allowed into the studio because of our celebrity status, we’ll go through every office in the building and replace every script with ours.

Once we’re done, we’ll sit back and wait for the Big-Time execs to call us and offer us huge contracts to star in the amazing movie we wrote. It’s simple business, Mr. Miller. I’m sure you understand being one of the more important people in Dad’s business. You probably snuck into Dad’s office late one night dressed as a very important trucker and replaced every resume with yours. When Dad read the resumes he probably exclaimed, “I want to hire this Mr. Miller gentleman and pay him one figure for each one of his resumes I have in my hand!” You’re quite crafty, Mr. Miller.

Well, I’m off to buy a blonde wig and long bow. We’ll make sure to put you in the credits as an assistant something-or-other.

-Danny

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The Open Road – Letter 8

Mr. Miller,

Hollywood has treated us quite worse than I had expected. Although our trip hasn’t been entirely fruitless, it appears that getting a movie deal involves a little more than just being in Hollywood. That’s alright, I’ve got plenty of time and a decent sum of money to get the greatest Lighthearted Buddy Comedy in the history of everything made.

The evening I arrived in Hollywood I met up with a couple of my Halo buddies for a tournament in order to earn my budget for the flick. I’m admittedly pretty dominant thanks to Dad paying for lessons, so I breezed through the first couple of rounds. I made it to the final match and it just so happened that I was facing the largest and most muscular member of a rival crew, “Teh Crunkpwnrz.” I got the decisive victory, but this gentleman was none too happy about some of my post-game comments (I still stand by my calling him the Loserest Loser of Losingberg) and he and his crew started to chase me down.

I managed to escape them for a bit, but they pursued me all the way back to the truck. I explained to Eddie my situation and was faced with a difficult decision. Do I release Eddie and run the risk of him beating me down for his imprisonment or keep him chained up and receive the beating of a lifetime? I couldn’t possibly defend myself against all Teh Crunkpwnrz!

I released Eddie and he proceeded to bash each Crunkpwnr into oblivion. Who knew that a 30-something grizzled trucker could handle a handful of 16-20 year-olds obsessed with video gaming? Then he knocked me out with a single punch to the side of the head.

I woke up in a diner with Eddie sitting across from me, eating a plateful of bacon. He handed me a pen and paper and told me to write you.

I hope I’ve convinced Eddie enough to stay in Hollywood with me and get our movie made. It would be the ultimate ending to our epic journey and I would probably cry the entire way up to Seattle if he didn’t stay.

-Danny

The Fox Trapper – Letter 3

To my loveliest Eliza,

I’d like to thank you dearly for your beautiful artwork, it has certainly brightened my mood. I tried to use it in order to gain some respect in the camp, but again I received nothing but a violent response. I displayed the picture to one of the younger gentlemen and declared, “Here! Now you see the great power and regalness of Mr. Wilbur Popbottom! I DEMAND RESPECT!” The following moments are all a blur to me now but I awoke with a number of lesions on my face and a difficulty urinating for the next couple of days. The boy may be only 13 years old, but I swear he is built like a ox-bear hybrid beast.

Eliza my dear, I am certainly not obsessed with your brother, Claudio. I certainly respect his hard-working nature, friendliness, great physical strength, firm handshake, shining smile, Sapphire blue eyes, and chiseled jaw line. However, there is a mutual respect there because Claudio truly appreciates my virtuosic harping abilities. My pet mouse merely reminds me a bit of your brother, with his unending curiosity and ability to melt my heart at one glance. Claudio (my mouse) has now learned a new trick in which he screams like a Harpy and bounces off the walls of his cage when he is hungry. I call it “The Banshee Shakes” and it is truly adorable.

Do not tell anyone of this, but I’ve taken to walking into the woods very late at night and searching for the foxes by myself. When I see one I warn it of the impending danger of the humans who are after their fluffy coats. They seem to take notice of my warnings because when I attempt to give them a “truce” handshake, they run away. I suppose they are too concerned with their lives to partake in the formalities, so I do not take offense.

Eliza, I know you are a smart woman so I am yet to be worried, but please heed my advice about indulging in spirits. You know what they say about alcohol: It’s been the cause of death for all of my grandparents, 2 of my sisters and a myriad of aunts and uncles. So, you know, be careful. It could even lead to you telling many an embarrassing story, such as the plum pudding one. You know I still have a limp from that incident.

I miss you Eliza, with all of my heart. Stay strong, for your man shall be home before you know it. Also, if you feel so inclined, tell Claudio to stay strong (which will be easy for him thanks to his bristling muscles), for his dear friend Wilbur will be home before he knows it.

With all my loving heart,

Wilbur