Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Open Letter to the Princes of Nigeria

Coming To America, Paramount Pictures, 1988

Dearest Ones, Honorable Friends,

I cannot begin to express how honored I feel that you have chosen me, a complete stranger, to entrust with the money left to you by your murdered/kidnapped/exiled fathers/mothers/uncles/nannies who were in the "very lucrative" gold/diamond/coffee business, while you secretly hide out, languishing in your respective refugee camps, awaiting my assistance. I know that must be very stressful for you, and it must be hard to trust anyone, given what you've been through. How lucky we both are that I happened to actually check in my spam folder to make sure nothing important got dumped there. My apologies that your email suffered such an indignity, but all's well that ends well. May I also add that I'm pleased to see the refugee camps are now providing computers and internet service to you, and giving you enough time to compose your very long and detailed messages, otherwise I might not fully understand the gravity of your situation and the need for my most kind assistance. Just try not to get any mud on the keyboard--it's a bitch to get out.

May I also say how moved I was that, even across so great a distance, there in your camp, you could see so deeply and know of my tender heart and desire to be of service, just by using "People Search". Seriously, you so nailed it. It's like you could see right into my soul.

I can assure you that, as you have requested, I will not share anything about our exchange with my many contacts within the United Nations or the Lord's Resistance Army. None of them have time to read my blog, so please do not concern yourself, Dear Friend. Maybe former Liberian president Charles Taylor will have some time now, but he'll probably only have dial-up service in prison, and my beautiful (don't you agree?) blog page takes too much time to load with dial up, and he hasn't read my blog since the Vote 'em Out piece that pissed him off.

I must say I am struck by the generosity of you, the (quite vast) Royal Family of Nigeria, as you have shown yourselves so willing to split evenly the fortunes that are your birthright, in exchange for my simple assistance and sharing with you of my name, address, social security number, date of birth, phone number, and checking account number--which is an honor, Dear Ones, as I've said.  Rest assured, I will not reveal our plans or spend any of the money (even if Fairway is having a huge sale on Umbrian olive oil and Fair-Trade coffee) until I know you are safely here in the United States, beginning your new life.  I don't think you need to worry about the asylum board, either--I hear it's a piece of cake to get through those hearings, and maybe you might not even have to spend three years in detention while you wait. Sweet deal, I know. I wouldn't worry too much about deportation, either. We Americans are just crazy about Royal Families. Did you catch the wedding of Kate and William on the telly in the refugee camp last year? Dreamy . . . but I digress. Forgive me.

I am also struck by your extreme cleverness in using email addresses with different names than the ones by which you actually identify yourselves--indeed, this is a necessary step in protecting yourself and your vast fortune. But perhaps, for consistency's sake, you might choose one name, so when the dangerous forces that seek to do you harm actually open the email, they don't see your true identity, as I have. This is, of course, just a humble suggestion which I hope will not offend your Highnesses. I realize your families did not ascend to the throne through their stupidity.

By the way, do you know Mark Morgan,  "auditor general in a financial institution in Dublin, Ireland" (I'm pretty sure that's his title. Sounds important, doesn't it? Kinda . . .SEX-Y)? Maybe you'd know him by the name on his email account, Delilah Biggs? No? Well, he also has asked me for a similar favor involving a staggering sum of money, so maybe he'd be able to help us with routing things from that account in Spain/France/London you mentioned, what with working in a financial institution and all.  I’m all about networking, so if he's busy, then maybe we can try Mr. Benson from the "International Remittance Department", through his secretary, Reverend Murray--although, maybe you'd prefer not to, since they're from the United Nations. Here's their official United Nations email address, just in case you want to try: If you do want me to contact them for you, let me know soon, because they said they needed an immediate reply. It was in all caps, like "IMMEDIATE REPLY REQUIRED", with a whole truckload of exclamation points, so I guess they really mean it.

Wow. I never realized how complicated all this could get. Not that I mind, of course. I really want to help. That camp, and what those people did to your fathers/mothers/uncles/nannies sound just awful. And I could really use 3.5 million dollars. I don't know if you get much news in the refugee camp (maybe when you're online?) but things kind of suck here, too. Sure, we have running water and all, but you wouldn't believe what tomatos and gas cost these days.

Anyway, I was prompted to write today because I received another email from the President of Nigeria, himself, asking for my personal info to confirm release of funds. I was confused, since of course, I have been in touch with the monarchs of Nigeria for some time now. So it got me wondering if this guy was for real. Is there a president now? Is he from China, because his name sounded really Chinese. Is this the bastard who hurt your family? That makes me so mad! So, I just need some clarity on this so I can finish the transaction. Can you send me some sort of identification, and the name of the bank we'll be dealing with, so I can see if it matches what this so-called President of Nigeria sent me?  Then I can get you set up in your new place. You're totally going to love it! I found it on Craigslist, which you've probably never heard of. It's a 3- bedroom on New York's upper east side with a doorman and a gym, and get this--it's only $500 a month. I saw pictures and everything--you even have a view of Big Ben and Parliament. I just need to send them the check by Friday, so hurry. I mean. . . HURRY! URGENT REPLY NEEDED! Ha ha. But seriously, get the info to me fast, because we don't want to lose this apartment, Dear Ones. It's the perfect place for tender-hearted Royals, like yourselves.

Your Humble Servant,

Blanche DuBois

Coming to America, Paramount Pictures, 1988