The most ubber letter i couldn't imagine...
WORLD OF WARCRAFT
BY Tyler Curry
- - - -
I've had a lot of time to think about our last conversation, particularly since you ended it by ramming a keyboard through my monitor. I understand that we were both upset at the time and perhaps we said some things we didn't mean. Well, maybe you more than me, considering I mostly just listened to you shriek and cowered in the corner.
I do not think I am, as you so eloquently screamed, "addicted to World of Warcraft." I have, however, made a number of unfortunate mistakes, for which I would like to apologize.
I'm sorry I was so late picking you up from the library. I didn't know they locked the doors at 8, and I'm sorry you had to stand outside alone for two hours. If it makes you feel better, despite its reputation to the contrary, that portion of the city does not have a violent-crime rate significantly above the national average.
You have to consider the position I was in. I was healing for a party with five players in it, all of whom were counting on me to help them defeat Mekgineer Thermaplugg and liberate the Gnomish city of Gnomeregan. Those are the needs of five people, in contrast to just yours, alone. (Note that I'm not even counting the needs of the Gnomish people here, Ashley.) As Spock once famously said, "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Or the one." You were that one.
Had I looked outside and noticed the freezing rain, I may have made a different decision. Probably not, though.
I'm also sorry I posted those pictures of you on my guild forums, the ones I took when you were passed out. I had no idea they could Photoshop your bra off. That was poor judgment on my part, and I freely admit it. I also should have told you before the chain letter went out. On the bright side, you hated working there anyway.
I also have some things to say that I think you should hear, and, since you forgot to pause long enough for me to speak before your charming little bout of property damage and subsequent stormy departure, I would like to say them now.
Ashley, you have never been willing to accommodate my World of Warcraft needs, or even to compromise the slightest bit.
Last month, when your mother was in a car accident, you called and not only demanded I drive you to the hospital but insisted I stay there to provide "emotional support"—despite knowing full well that I had booked that evening off to fight forest trolls in Zul'Aman. When I suggested you take a cab and that I join you in three to four hours, you unleashed a string of expletives that even my therapist found disturbing. You also refused to wait until we finished off the eagle boss, the one who drops the helm piece I have been trying to get for months.
For the record, she turned out fine anyway. Many paraplegics lead rich and rewarding lives.
Also, what you stumbled upon me doing with that Level 64 blood elf in the back room of the Silvermoon City Inn was neither "sick and perverted" nor "cheating on you." We were role-playing. That I called you by her character's name later that evening was just a weird coincidence. I do not wish your body looked like that. You and I both know that it's physically impossible for humans to have those proportions, at least while retaining all of their internal organs.
However, in the midst of your raging diatribe, sandwiched between the curses and the flailing limbs, you made some very good points. In fact, the words you spoke about commitment, loyalty, and "being there when someone needs you" have sort of inspired me.
Ashley, when I gave you that ring and pledged to spend my life with you, what I didn't mention was that, eight months prior, in the Level 10 quest "For the Horde," I had already pledged eternal fealty and service to Warchief Thrall.
Now, with the gates of Ahn'Qiraj opening and the threat of the Silithid invasion looming over Azeroth, the call has gone out for all able-bodied members of the horde to band together in the great war effort. An event like this only happens once in a server's life, and I cannot honorably abandon my online brethren in this hour of need. I understand that you need me to be there for you, but, Ashley, the truth is, right now, the horde just needs me more.