Yea verily, for I am truly the God of Thunder, I shall summon the power of mine Uru hammer and…

You know what? Fuck it. I just don’t have it in me to do the whole “mock-Shakespearian-overblown-dialogue thing“ anymore. Too many years have passed. Too many years.

It’s funny. I keep asking myself: “Why did you decide to write this letter, Thor The Mighty? Odds are he’ll never even see it.” I’ll tell you why. Because you tossed me aside long ago, like I was nothing. And I’m not nothing!

Listen, I don’t want to get into who did what to whom; that game never got us anywhere. And hey, maybe this situation is partly my fault. I never claimed to be a god. That was all just packaging and hype, and you know it. I’m mature enough to admit that some of my flaws were pretty major. Like my winged helmet, for instance. No matter how hard you tried, you just could not make that thing stay on my head. Forget about the fact that there was a plastic peg inside the helmet that was supposed to fit inside a hole in my head. It just kept popping off, over and over again. Like it was mocking us for even trying to have adventures together.

I guess that piece of silver plastic was a hell of a lot wiser than we thought, huh.

And although I’ve apologized for it a million times, I think it bears repeating: I’m sorry about my hair. It’s ridiculous. I know it, you know it. The Falcon and Iron Man know it. The sick thing is, it’s the same hair they gave the Invisible Girl. The Invisible Girl! She was practically the Barbie of the World’s Greatest Superheroes Collection for Christ’s sake. How do you think that made me feel, having the same hair as a girl? I realize now that caused me to do some crazy shit to prove I was a man. It’s all too painful to go into here, but I’m sure you remember. Please, say you remember.

By the way, did you ever find my hammer? I never could hold on to that thing.

Anyway, I hope your current life finds you happy. Everything’s pretty much the same here in your mom’s basement, except she finally threw out your Matchbox City. Your dad was trying to get to the Christmas decorations and tripped over it. He nearly cracked his skull open. I swear, I’ve never heard a man curse like that in my whole life, and I’m immortal! (ha ha). God, remember how we used to laugh? But seriously, according to your parents, if you don’t come over soon and “clean up all this shit,” it’s all going to the dump. I guess that includes me too… but why am I surprised? You threw me on the emotional trash heap years ago. My only hope is that one day you realize how much you really miss me, and you try to find me on ebay.

Maybe then you’ll finally understand what I’m really worth.