Friday, August 20, 2010

Homebaked Shakespeare

The Final Installment in Our "Camp Letters Home" series:
Richard Gloucester (the eventual King Richard III) writes to the Duchess of York

Dear Mother:

Thanks to you, the winter of my discontent has carried over well into summer. I am writing this letter at the suggestion of my "Counselor" Gary here at "Camp" Love Without Hurt. Honestly, mother? Honestly? Did you think I wouldn't get suspicious when they did a body-cavity check on the bus? At least when you sent me to that Special Olympics Camp last summer you had the guts to tell me what it was. (And, by the way, Gary thinks my legs are uneven because you smoked when you were pregnant, so you can stop it with all that "Omen" crap you've been spreading about me.)

Anyway, I've been getting "in touch" with a lot of my "anger," and now I'm supposed to write to you about it. I'm supposed to "forgive" you for calling me an abortive devil when I accidentally almost smothered Baby Rutland; and I'm supposed to "let go" of the fact that you tell everyone you meet about the teeth I allegedly had when I was born. Maybe I was just dentally precocious. Did you ever think of that, Mother? No, you didn't, did you? If it was your precious Edward who had teeth when he was born, you would be all, "Oh, he's always been so ADVANCED." But, NO. According to you, I'm some kind of freak of nature.

Gary thinks that I'm extraordinary for overcoming my traumatic childhood, by the way, and he will be accompanying me back to York at the end of camp.

In a few days you may be receiving a letter from the "Camp Director" accusing me of certain crimes against my roommate, Hank Lancaster. Should you receive this letter, rest assured that Gary has a sworn affadavit from the camp aquatics instructor clearly stating that Hank is a terrible swimmer. In the event that you do not receive a letter from the Director, then you should burn this one immediately.

I'll be seeing you soon, Mother. You can count on it.


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