Dear Die Hard,
Look, I...I don't know how to say this. You've been there for me. When I was an impressionable thirteen year old, unsure in the ways of awesome shit, you were there for me, your years of wisdom and experience guiding me, bringing me into my own. When I came to you, I was but a boy. You made me a man, Die Hard. No matter what I say next, just know that I will never forget that. There have been others, Die Hard. There was Bond, with his suave demeanor, exotic adventures and fancy cars, but his allure faded as his belly bulged with years of easy living. He would never crawl through dusty, labyrinthine ventilation systems for me, all the while keeping that amazing sense of humor! No, that didn't last, and in fact I'm almost embarrassed to tell you of it, but I feel that if I can't be honest know, then when can I? And, really, after all these years, I can't stand to keep secrets from you any longer. There were other dalliances, especially with Neo, but that was in college, and I was smoking a looot of pot then. As things grew stale between us, your DVD case growing dustier by the year, I began to fear I would never find anyone as right for me as you. I looked to the future, searching obsessively, looking at films younger and younger than you, when finally I found it.
Hard Boiled and I are in love, Die Hard. Sure, they don't make me laugh like you did, with your pithy wise cracks and weary demeanor. They're a little more serious, but a bit over the top. Sure, sometimes I wonder if the ridiculous tone is worth it, but it is, Die Hard, it really is. The acrobatic gun fights! The way they slide up and down the rails, and twirl over tables and up and down stairs and hallways, arms held at length, two guns clenched firmly in two sweaty fists, dirt and blood staining their clothes and skin. What would you have me do? You know how I am, how could I not fall for that? Christ, I've had dreams that look just like that. If you asked me to write in a simple formula what my perfect action movie would be, I would just write the synopsis for Hard Boiled. His name is just Tequila, Die Hard. One word, and it's TEQUILA! That's...that's just. fucking. cool. I mean, really, I am but a man, Die Hard. And hey! We had a good run. He was around before you, but I met you first. You were my first action movie. Don't think I'll forget you just because I've got some new, exotic romance happening. You'll always have a space in my heart, and in my DVD collection. But it's time for us to move on. I'll miss you, Die Hard, but it's over between us.
Love always,
Ricky
P.S. Yippie ki yay, motherfucker.
P.P.S. I met this guy in Utah who totally thinks Mr. and Mrs. Smith is a better action movie than you, Die Hard, so just think how much worse it could be. I could've replaced you with Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, instead of Chow Yun-fucking-Fat.
