Special Mail Delivery

As finally promised, this is just a couple of fake letters that were delivered in the game Assassins Creed Three. The mission is real, but the letters are made up. Because the game doesn't give any written ones to go off of. So here I am!

The letters are in the Boston area.

Letter to Dock Worker

After running halfway across Boston, I reach a busy dockyard packed with more seamen than a swanky hotel. This dude was standing by what I would think is his ship.He wore a big red beret and blue striped t-shirt. Which made it THAT much easier to point his ass out. Which leads me to his letter:

Dear John Johnson Johnny Gerdshaw 2nd,

It has come to my attention your wife is living within our lands of the Frontier.

We know of this because of your "attempt" to raise smoke signals to communicate with your wife.

We know of her, and she is a kind woman who speaks highly of you, however these messages are making a mess of our own people's signals to other tribes.

The other tribes are voicing their distaste for the messages you consistently send off to court your wife.

If I see one more signal, and I quote,

"Baby, I will hump you like two bears fresh out of hibernation,"

Or,

"Oh, sweetie, you have an ass that could make a bobcat stop in it's tracks and go 'dayum,'"

I will be forced to find you in Boston, with two of my best hunters, and remove your "Johnson junior" as punishment for screwing with my people.

While your at it, bring some more beaver pelts, we're running low on things to sale for unfair prices.

Best wishes,
Chief Rain in the Puss.

Well HE won't fuck with the Native American's way of communication ever again.

I hate to be the guy who sees those messages and have to tell the tribal chief. 

Letter to Farmer

The next letter was to a farmer in the eastern rural part of Boston. This dude was sitting on his front porch chilling. He had no idea what he was about to read:

To Mr. Vin Niesel,

I am ashamed of writing this, but someone has to warn you.

I was out at night taking a stroll through the market, when I saw your wife walking with another man.

I knew it wasn't you, sir, as this gentlemen was very tall, well built and had no hair. He claimed he was "hard to kill."

I followed them and caught them kissing under the "Tipsy Turvy" tavern sign. Five minutes later they went in and never came out.

I'm sure he was just saving her from any of the Jager mercenaries walking around. You know how crazy those Germans are, but I figured I tell you.

A dear friend.

I never saw someone run so fast before. And 10 to one he wasn't going to get "Tipsy Turvy" at the tavern. 

How did people handle divorce back in the 1800's? Any better than King Louis the 14th?

Letter to Market Salesman

The last letter had me running to a soldier near a liberated fort. He was parked just outside chillin' with a couple of dudes by a fire. I figured it was for a transfer or something:

To Johnny Hepp,

Congratulations in joining the ranks of the Patriots, soldier!

On behalf of General Washington, we hope you will live up your duties of being a captain of your division.

Seeing as you were a captain of a large ship, we feel you will handle your land legs just fine.

We have to ask you keep your "slaying the ladies" business for off-duty hours only. 

We were approached by some of the courtesans, with claims their sister's, friend's, mother's had relations with you and never saw you again.

I advise you no need worry about any straggling redcoats, but worry more about vengeful lasses "patrolling" parts of Boston.

May I recommend a transfer to one of our forts in the Frontier? A man desssed as Captain Kidd keeps watch over the area. Though he sometimes snaps and "asks" everyone in no particular fort to leave for a bit.

Personally I rather be there and deal with the cougars. Better than the other kind of cougars roaming our streets looking for answers form you, sir.

Regards,
Royal offices of the United States.

P.s. We will accept any and all rum supplies you have/had as means of compensation for any damages done by your "lovers."

Remind me if I ever run into some scoundrel-looking dude to run in the opposite fucking direction. I hate to be caught in the middle of a bitch fight between a past "captain" and his many lovers.

Or any kind of shennanigains he has to offer. I won't skip on an offer of rum though.

Think I'll just avoid the Caribbean altogether too. Just in case.  

The two names, Johnny Hepp and Vin Niesel are both parody names off of famous stars. If you can guess who they are, you will get a cookie.