Hey, Kev, I wanted to reach out because I saw you actually managed to publish a book. Good for you, you little hotshot. Now I owe Doug a fiver.

Anyways, I was skimming through the thing at the airport—I’d already been kicked out of the Chili’s—and couldn’t help but pick up on some similarities between myself and Lagroo, the ten-story-tall slime creature. There’s the fact that he was “born” in a lab with the same address as my childhood home. And that he has a collection of stick-and-poke tattoos almost identical to mine except that his are on fire. And his use of my signature catchphrase, “Smell you forever because you stink that bad.”

I knew I should have had that copyrighted.

The truth is, I’m flattered really. I looked it up online and apparently he’s, like, a really important part of your book. Your hero takes all 409 pages to slay this irredeemable, twisted, “unbelievably cruel” monster. Weird that he’s the only one I found at all likable in my five-minute skim, but art is subjective I guess. And it’s cool to know that my, like, legacy is all set. I’m immortalized in print. Which is great because I was never planning on setting up a trust or buying a brick at a park or anything. I’d have kids, but you know how relationships have been a struggle for me.

Here’s what’s eating at me though: you never credit me. At all. I copied and pasted your whole book into a Word doc and Ctrl+F-ed my name and nothing. I feel like the character, therefore me, is pretty important to your precious story, so what gives? In your dedication you listed like thirteen people. I think even our junior-year English teacher made the cut. Like, excuse me? You know how many times that guy sent me to the principal’s office for spitballing you? If anything, he was working directly against what ended up making your novel such a hit—me!

It’s not like I want a cut of whatever you’re getting, although maybe that would be fair. I’d just like some kind of recognition that I’m your—what’s the word? Is it “muse?” Whatever it is, it’d be great if I could have my legacy locked in, you know? I don’t want to be sitting around with my grand-nephews someday, showing them the book, and they’re sarcastically going, “Sure, you’re famous, granduncle, sure. And not for your countless other achievements. Also this book.”

Which reminds me, I’m thinking I’ll need at least 100 free copies for passing down and resale purposes. You don’t need to sign them. I can handle that.

Last thing I wanna say is that I heard you’re writing a sequel. I’m sure there’s a lot of clammer online to bring back the most interesting character in the book, mine. Don’t feel the need to do that. Just know that I found some lawyer online who promised me we could come after you for all you’ve got for using my likeness, the slime monster, without my permission. So, yeah, just bear that in mind when I tell you that Lagroo better make an epic comeback in book two.

And hey, congrats to you and me both. A bestseller, wow! And you’re in talks about a movie deal? So cool! Goes without saying, but I better see my name in those credits. And not in the long scrolly part nobody sticks around for. Throw me in with the executive producers, I don’t care, just make sure my name is nice and big so even a four-eyes like you can see it. Ha!

Sorry, that was uncalled for. Now don’t forget that dedication dingus.