A Letter to Miguel Delgado
December 11th, 7857

Firstly, I'm not a fan of typing letters. You say my handwriting sucks, I say, your eyes are getting cloudy. My fingers hurt already, so fuck you.

That being said, it brings me great pleasure to call you my friend. As you might imagine, I'm bound for hell, and not the one I came from. That leaves you with most of what I own, you might guess. You'd be wrong. I'm passing it down to someone I think can help you get your eyes back on the prize. He's got a child-like spark about him, and what's more, he knows how to listen. You'll meet him soon enough. Maybe he'll teach you a thing or two about what people actually want from a business.

Relax, you're not being hung out to dry. From what I hear, he's already 'invested' in your daughter. He had a momentary distraction, but I've since corrected his course and gotten him back on track. I don't have long, but I need this to work, and so do you. You know what's at stake.

Just kidding! Or am I? Don't let me be right about you.

- Emiliano Sanpedro Pérez