Dear Dan Auerbach,
First off, I'd like to congratulate you on your continuing success as one half of the popular rock 'n' roll duo, The Black Keys. As a fellow Akronite, I applaud the hard work and dedication you've put in to maximize your formidable talents as a singer, songwriter and guitarist. Hey, it's always good to see a homeboy make it big. Furthermore, you, like me, are a graduate of Firestone High School. All the best to you, from one Falcon to another. All hail to the Green and Gold.
But the real reason I'm writing is that I've got a little beef with you. Well, not with you exactly. See, about 20 years ago my brother loaned your brother my copy of Castlevania 3.
It was a pretty sweet game, for its time. Really one of my all-time favorites. No surprise there, though. Konami made a ton of awesome games for the NES. I'm sure your brother got a lot of enjoyment out of it as well. Heck, maybe you yourself strapped on Trevor Belmont's boots a few times to try your hand at breaking Dracula's curse. No big deal on the loaner; I was happy to spread the wealth.
The thing is, though, I never got that back. I don't want to freak out or get my dander up or anything, but my problem is that it's been 20 fucking years. What should have been a good faith transaction between close friends took a wrong turn somewhere along the way. I'm not sure why and I don't want to come off like a dick, but the bottom line is that your brother just up and kept the fucking game. What's up with that?
I don't suppose he's getting a lot of use out of it right about now, is he? I mean he's had it for 20 years--enough time to beat the game a hundred times over. So, if you read this letter and it's not too much trouble, could you sort of give him a little nudge? I know rock stars keep a busy schedule, but if you do get a chance, please tell him to send it back. After two decades I'm kind of eager to know how things turn out for old Trevor.
Thanks a million,
PS: Cool beard