Of the Troubles of Ralph, the Wrecker of Niceland
And Wreck-It Ralph…ah, Ralph. You nearly destroyed this arcade, only to save its very existence.
I remember when you showed up. Just a gruff face, plenty of complaints about my security checks. And then then the quarrels started with Gene and the other Nicelanders, and your temper worsened.
You may never read this, Ralph. But if you ever do, I want you to know some things. Yes, I sometimes singled you out when I was in a bad mood. That's my fault, and I accept responsibility for all of those times. But I never sought a quarrel with you. In fact, I'd have helped you, if you'd have let me. But then, we don't exactly mix, do we? Perhaps it's because we're too alike, you and I.
Yes, really. I sympathize with you a lot, you know. Mistreated simply for doing your own job- how could I not relate? And I didn't single you out very much, to be often. A lot of times, it was simply because you had a habit of bending or breaking my own rules. I could write a book on the number of times I've caught you at things…and on the number of times I've let such matters slide.
Yes sir, Old Surge is more flexible than he looks. A lot of practice over the past decade has brought that about…
…I get ahead of myself again.
When did the troubles begin? Oh yes- two months in was when I first heard of them. I was never quite sure who started it- you or Gene. It's impossible to tell now. And frankly, now that you and he on the mend, attitude-wise, I'm not so sure it matters anymore. But still…things escalated quickly. He hated your temper first, and then your stench, and then…well, your everything, really. You hated his snobbery, his rigid attitudes about videogame villains that were far more extreme than anyone else's. He gained the trust of all of the Nicelanders, convinced them that everything he ever said about you was true. You made matters worse by keeping the cycle going with your periodic bouts of anger, with your heavy drinking.
It was quite saddening to watch all that for thirty years.
At least now, you seem to be improving. You still don't like me very much, I'm afraid. But your cure's been found. Many are the times I've overheard Mr. Litwak describing the joys of children. I still maintain they can be brats more often than optimists like our owner seem to think. But now…I begin to wonder if he has a point. Your new friend is kind of brat, and she doesn't like me very much, I'm afraid. But still…the expressions on your respective faces whenever the two of you meet- I am glad for you. Even if you won't see it, I truly am.