the letter that I sent to Brøderbund Software last month in reference to their much-belittled Nintendo Entertainment System dungeon crawl, Deadly Towers. It took me 24 years to contact the company with my suggestions for improvements to the original game or its possible (probable!) sequel, so I really didn’t expect a quick reply. However, it’s more than five weeks later, and I’ve heard not a peep from Brøderbund or their parent company, Navarre Corporation. This means one of three – or thee and a half, depending on how you look at it – things:
1. Brøderbund Software is diligently working on a re-release or sequel to DT, implementing all of my suggestions, and is simply too busy counting the millions of dollars they stand to make in the near future to send me a thank you card/check.
2. They never received my letter because some underpaid and overworked postal worker “delivered” it deep into his pantaloons.
3a. All Brøderbund Software employees are being abducted by aliens.
3b. All Brøderbund Software employees ARE aliens.
Whatever the case, all this waiting is starting to affect me in odd ways. First of all, I’ve been peeing purple for the past week, but I’m pretty sure that has less to do with Deadly Towers and more to do with me brutally murdering Barney the Dinosaur and feasting on his stupid foam carcass. But more importantly, things are getting tense between me and my Deadly Towers cartridge, Wilson. He said he was cool with us discussing his flaws, but I think he took offense to some of the things I said in that letter. I barely see him when he comes home from work and breakfast has turned into a series of awkward, stalled conversations.
Me: Good morning, Wilson! How are you feeling this morning?
Wilson: I… listen. I have to tell you something. I’m… I’m late for work, okay? Prince Myer should have stabbed the first enemy at least 800 times by now. I’ll see you later.
Me: Oh, okay. Well, I’ll see you tonight I guess. I love you!
Wilson: Yeah. See you later.
Although his warrantee ended about 23 years and nine months ago, I looked up Wilson’s manual for details anyway, and this kind of behavior isn’t covered at all. In fact, I can’t find any information about his wierd attitude anywhere, not even in old issues of Gamepro or on those little cards that came with new games telling you to buy Nintendo Power for $15 a year.
I’m planning on sending a copy of the original letter to the Navarre Corporation in hopes that they might give me some sort of reply. I’ll keep you guys posted. In the meantime, I’m going to go watch I Love Lucy and wonder where Wilson and I went wrong.