For Part IV of her custom Character Letter series, @GroovyFrood wanted an email thread between Rocket and Bucky. The physical letter was mailed to her earlier this month!
The bit about haircare products was suggested by @jillwebb.
Close-up A (upper front page):
Close-up B (mid front page):
Close-up C (bottom of front page):
Close-up D (top of back page):
Close-up E (mid back page):
Close-up F (bottom of back page):
Date: January 1, 2021 07:24:45 EST
Subject: Teachin’ myself about your little rituals
Hey, Merry Christmas, buddy. Hope it was festive and bright and Santa Claus came to town or whatever. He’s supposed to be this huge elf in a red jumpsuit who can time travel? Yeah, I know *exactly* where that guy’s home planet is. I’d be a tiny bit worried for you people, knowing what he’s capable of—but it’s too flarkin’ hilarious.
Quill tried to explain the tree worship part to me, but he started babbling pretty quickly. He claims he was bein’ sensitive ‘cause Groot was in the next pod, but that’s a metric Thanos-ton of crap. My vision is like six hundred times better than a human’s, bud, and I saw what I saw: he started singin’ somethin’ called “Last Christmas” right when Thor walked in to make a sandwich. Gammy flashed a smile at the wrong guy, and Quill forgot all about me. What’s more important—gifting a friend with a little local culture, or arguing with a god about how many slices of Swiss are needed to create the perfect Reuben?
That’s been my week: Kickin’ bad-guy tuches, and desperately hunting for ONE room on this krutackin’ ship where I can’t hear Mantis howling about giving her heart away to someone special this Christmas.
So, uh…Quill says that humans usually give each other gifts. You get anything cool?
Date: January 1, 2021 13:03:03 EST
Subject: Re: Teachin’ myself about your little rituals
The arm still isn’t for sale.
Date: January 1, 2021 18:59:07 EST
Subject: DUDE, I’M BEING ENTIRELY REASONABLE HERE. THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS.
Oh, COME ON. I wrote an entire email about your wacky holiday with the fruitcake and the toy-deliverin’ demon and his flyin’ hellpets. I even listened to Mariah Carey, Barnesy. All of that, for YOU. Because I’m not ONLY an amazing pilot, weapons genius, and extremely desirable bachelor: I’m also POLITE AS HECK. See how I wrote “heck” there? That’s what I’m talkin’ about. Did it ever occur to you that I, Rocket Raccoon, hero, care about my good friend and one-time teammate Bucktholomew Barnes?
Date: January 2, 2021 09:12:23 EST
That’s not my name. That’s not anyone’s name.
And I’m suspicious, pal, because you’ve sent 46 emails asking me about the arm in the past year, and suddenly, here’s a novella from you out of nowhere, right after Christmas. I did receive some pretty great gifts, for your information, but that doesn’t mean I’ve changed my mind. It’s my ARM, not an electric screwdriver!
To: firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com,
Date: January 2, 2021 10:20:01 EST
Subject: Dude, I almost teared up. In a totally manly way.
Hey man, sorry this is a week late; I barely stopped another nuclear war from breaking out. But I just needed to say THANK YOU for your flippin’ amazing prezzie! An original bottle of Detangler would’ve been more than enough, but the *entire* Paul Mitchell line? In mint condition, unopened? My hair is going to be so silky and luxurious that Crossfire’ll probably retreat the next time he sees me purely out of professional jealousy. It’s…I’m really touched, man.
To: firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com
Date: January 2, 2021 10:21:02 EST
Subject: Re: Dude, I almost teared up. In a totally manly way.
Oh My God. Is—is THIS my own personal Christmas? Quill was right; it’s MAGIC.
To: firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com
Date: January 2, 2021 15:32:41 EST
Subject: Re: re: Dude, I almost teared up. In a totally manly way.
Rocket—you’re a space raccoon. You could find another cybernetic arm in like 12 minutes. Can’t you hang out on, I don’t know, a galactic classifieds board or something?
Clint—you’re welcome. KINDA BUSY RIGHT AT THIS SECOND, THOUGH
To: firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com
Date: January 2, 2021 22:09:29 EST
Subject: What would be the point of that?
Dear Magic Haircare Man,
Sure, I could snag some sap’s arm no problem. But why bother? Then I’d have to watch a stranger flail around armless instead of you, and that’d be WAY less funny.
It’s because I love you, Bucktholomew. I’ll be dropping by tonight. You accept Bitcoin, right?
To: firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com
Date: January 3, 2021 3:04:59 EST
Subject: Um, doesn’t EVERYONE?
Oh hey, Rocket! Good to see you, man.
If you guys work something out, can you mail me a Bitcoin? Scott signed me up for some online game where I have to slay dragons with a sword (like some kind of neanderthal), but it actually sounds really fun. He said I need a Bitcoinage account to buy the fancy armor, though, and I keep trying to create one, but the stupid system keeps claiming I’ve entered the password wrong.
I think Ultron’s back.
Want to see everything I’ve created in the same place? Because you can do that!