What Up Gangsta? Before you self destruct on February 9, 2009, a humble news reporter for The Escapist would like to challenge you to your own videogame, 50 Cent: Blood on the Sand.
Dear Mr. Cent,
I, like many fans of hip-hop have received word that you plan to detonate yourself in the coming year. I find this news to be very unfortunate as the hip-hop community would be devastated, having suffered yet another blow that it could never completely recover from. Before this event occurs, however, you plan to release a new videogame by the name of 50 Cent: Blood on the Sand. In a recent interview with MTV News, you claim that you have not only had an opportunity to experience this game, but you have also become quite skilled in its mechanics.
So skilled, in fact, that you issued a challenge. Quote, “If anybody out there wants to create a challenge or wants to bet some money online, we could play the game right now.”
I, sir, accept your challenge.
Like the much publicized feud between East and West Coast lyricists in the 1990’s, we stand at the precipice of our generations cultural rivalry: multi-million dollar hip-hop artists at war with frail, under-payed games industry gadflies. Recently, Internet superstar Soulja Boy and MTV reporter Stephen Totilo have been involved in their own personal squabble over videogame supremacy, or as you refer to it, “beef.” Unlike the aforementioned artist, you, Mr. Cent, are a man of character and nobility. You appreciate the sport as much as you do the hunt as you said in the brilliantly titled 2005 song, “Gatman and Robin-“
I’ll leave no witnesses when I ride, B
You f*** with me, you see
I’ll react like an animal and tear you apart
If a masterpiece was murder, I’d major in art
I assure you, Mr. Cent, that I would be quite the challenge for even a man of your cunning. I have a background in professional, world-class videogame play, ranging from shooters, fighting games and of course, Dance Dance Revolution. While your experience and technique at your title demands respect, I must tell you now, I have walked through the valley of death of the shadow of death and I fear no man when it comes to virtual fisticuffs. You shall be taxed, verily.
Should this correspondence be deemed unworthy of your consideration, than I shall be forced to deliver unto you a tongue-lashing the likes of which you have never been dealt. Behold: from those of whom I have spoken to on the street, you are referred to as a “wanksta” and many men wish death upon you. Once more: you claim that you have been shot nine times. I have listened to your records nine times. We have suffered much the same.
Now that you have been convinced by a blinding rage, I await your response. I have contacted the handlers of your videogame at THQ and so the game is afoot. I am available for our duel at any time, and any place. I have been informed that when “shorties” take in entertainment with you and your companions, the activities may last beyond the time of 3AM. I assure you, this would not be a problem. Good day.
Sincerely,
Jared Rea
