Dear Michael Arndt — may I call you Mike? I just feel like we’re connected like that, you know?
I recently received a hand-addressed envelope from Lucasfilm in my mailbox, addressed to you. Thanks to a Star Wars-fan-friend of mine and a bit of Googling, I discovered who you are and also that you once lived in my modest East Williamsburg (or maybe Bushwick?) apartment. I’ve gotten a lot of mail for you over the last year and I have a lot of questions for you, my Eskimo-tenant-brother.
Were you aware that you have been pre-approved for at least four low-interest credit cards in the last few months? The envelopes were marked “Important Offer Enclosed” so I trust that these good tidings from Capital One and Chase will be a source of considerable excitement this holiday season. Personally, I’d go with the Chase Freedom® Card. The ATMs are abundant and perks include access to exclusive events like the CHASE FREEDOM MOVIE NIGHT (in partnership with Fandango). Seems like something that might be up your alley. Now, the Freedom® Card isn’t exactly easy to get, but The Force Awakens is already making a ton of coin. I’m pretty sure they’ll want your business. (Don’t drop my name. I assure you, it will get you nowhere)
According to an article I found from the mid-2000s, you wrote Little Miss Sunshine in your “cheap Brooklyn apartment”, which is now my presumably less-cheap Brooklyn apartment. I’m gonna go ahead and assume that the hologram puff stickers I found on my refrigerator and switchplates were placed there by you in a moment of childlike wonder as you channeled the precocious pre-teen character who would later be played by Abigail Breslin. Or perhaps they drifted gently into your mind years later as you carefully crafted what was arguably the finest Toy Story in the Pixar trilogy. I could kick myself for peeling those off just days after moving in.
As a fellow writer, I’m curious to know in which of the blissful chambers of our apartment you found most creatively inspiring. Was it the sprawling 2’ x 2’ bathroom with microscopic stall shower? I find some of my best ideas crop up as I’m wedging myself into a V shape between its plastic walls in order to shave one of my legs. The fire escape facing a daycare facility that unleashes its screaming charges into an outdoor courtyard 40+ times per day is also pretty transcendent. It’s basically Yaddo, here.
And how ‘bout those sweet sweet Bed Bath & Beyond coupons, M-Dawg? Not gonna lie, one of those may have found its way into my purse. Who doesn’t want to buy weird imported foods, horrid no-iron sheet sets, and pre-broken appliances in one convenient location? Stars: they’re just like us.
I’m guessing the neighborhood has changed a little since you were churning out Oscar gold on these humble streets. For starters, the dog-sized rat population has taken a big hit in the last few years, evidently replaced by squads of bros wearing toques. Bushwick Pita Palace is still going strong, though — any time you want to talk shop over a Crazy Burrito and some middling flan, you know where to find me.
P.S. Got a forwarding address?
P.P.S. There’s a roof deck, now. Sorry.