My Dearest Yo-Yo

My Dearest Yo-Yo,

First, I must congratulate you on your victory. According to the rules of the bet, I must now pay up. Since it has been several moons since last we matched wits, allow me to refresh your feeble memory.

On the eve of November 16, 2022, as we were watching “Chernobyl” together at my domicile with the rest of the homies, I elucidated the actor on screen was Adam Driver, star of many fine films such as “Marriage Story” and “The Last Duel,” as well as some not-so-fine films like… well, you know the ones.

Anyway, as you recall, I pointed to the man onscreen, my fist clenching butter soaked popcorn, and stated, “Adam Driver’s in this? I love him.”

“That’s not Adam Driver,” you said with a overly-confident drunken air, like a buffoon before falling off a bar stool.

“Your inebriation has blinded you,” I retorted. “I bet you a fresh pack of Yu-Gi-Oh cards that the man on the screen is Kylo Ren.”

“I know two things,” you slurred, “Number one: you’re drunk too. Number two: that ain’t two-time Academy Award nominee Adam Driver.” With a slap of the hands, the bet was sealed; witnessed by our two mutual friends, Dr. Eddie ‘Scoops’ Russel and Southpaw. A quick search on the world wide web, and there was the proof. We were looking at Billy Postlethwaite, his expression frozen by the television’s pause button.

“Pay up,” you ordered, but without a fresh pack of Yu-Gi-Oh cards on hand, I was delayed in proffering the goods. A few days later, you had returned to your home in Derbyshire, and I had still not made good on the bet.

Until now. Please find enclosed a fresh pack of Yu-Gi-Oh cards; my debit is paid. Crack the pack when you wish; savor your trivia(l) victory.

Sincerely,

Gator

P.S. I look forward to seeing you and Southpaw for Mardi Gras.

Dear Gator,

Thank you for eventually getting my recompense to me. I have anticipated the arrival of my bounty for three score and sixteen days by my count; a delay most egregious. The tardiness of the letter was not my only complaint, however.

By the terms of the bet, we specified a pack of Pokemon cards. However, by your own written admission, enclosed in your letter was a packet of Yu-Gi-Oh cards, a game with which I am not familiar and neither are you. How you made such a boneheaded error I cannot understand, but, sufficed to say, you have not fulfilled the terms of our arrangement.

Truthfully, I expect this was an intentional snub. No person with such a robust nerd pedigree as yours would confuse the obviously dissimilar franchises. I suspect your motive was trickery, or perhaps the pervasive laziness which oozes from your soul like noxious farts from an old dog. You even had the gall to seal the letter with wax, no doubt trying to razzle-dazzle me into accepting the counterfeit cards. It shall not work, knave.

I am returning the pack to you, unopened, along with a SASE (that stands for ‘self addressed stamped envelop’ you ignorant baboon). Perhaps you will be able to return the pack to whichever shop from whence thou purchased it, and get a paltry refund. Next time you contact me via post, I expect the letter to contain my prize. You may continue to contact me via Snapchat, text message, and Linkedin as normal.

Threateningly,

Yo-Yo

P.S. Please say hi to Dr. Scoops.

Dear Yo-Yo,

You cleverly discovered my ruse. Yes, I swapped your Pokemon pack with a Yu-Gi-Oh one to test your memory. But I admit, there was another motive: the Yu-Gi-Oh cards were cheaper. In my attempt to save 60-odd cents, I have cost you and I twice that much in postage. You have a shrewd recollection; perhaps a lesson I should have learned when I challenged you to an “Is that Adam Driver”-off.

Enclosed is a proper pack of Pokemon cards, as well as a check reimbursing you for the cost of your postage and envelope. Regrettably, I could not use your SASE, since it had your old address on it. Please find that enclosed too, although what you will do with a miss-addressed envelope I surely do not know.

I hope this satisfies our bet.

Optimistically,

Gator

P.S. Dr. Scoops is well and passes on his own well wishes to you and Southpaw. Since Southpaw doesn't live near you, please forward this letter to him when you’re done to pass along the good doctor’s greetings.

Dear Gator,

You remain a jokester and fool. Do you think I have time in my highly busy schedule to go to the bank and deposit a check for 66 cents? You have not given me restitution; you have given me a chore. As a member of the normal citizenry, I work from 9 in the ante meridiem until 5 in the post meridiem, and have no chance of ever patronizing a banking institution during normal business hours. And you can wager Southpaw’s life that I shall not go on a Saturday, 'tis my only day off! It’s not even worth logging into my bank app to e-deposit such a pittance, what with the bother of two-factor authentication.

As for the Pokemon cards, they were adequate. The foil Jiggly Puff I pulled will forever remind me of you: rotund and sleepy, with eyeballs too large for its overstuffed pink head.

Satisfactorily,

Yo-Yo

P.S. I was able to forward along your letter to Southpaw, using the SASE you returned and placing a sticker over my old address. He has since responded; please find that letter enclosed as well.

Dear Yo-Yo, Gator, and Dr. Scoops,

Are you seriously still doing this letter bit? Dudes, it’s been months and we’ve seen each other a ton since then. We were all at the Grand Canyon together last week. It’s getting out of hand. And cut the old-timey talk. You aren’t Elizabethan shipwrights; you’re a couple nerds in your 30s.

Please forward this letter to Dr. Scoops when you’re done.

Best,

Southpaw

P.S. I thought I saw Adam Driver in “Oppenheimer” but it was Dylan Arnold.