DEAR UNCLE MADARA,
I write to you from my "loft" above the Harus' rundown garage, where I am housed, not unlike some sort of unwanted automobile or forgotten piece of luggage, no doubt breathing in stale vehicle exhaust day and night.
Although here only a few weeks, how I mourn the rugged splendor of the Carpathians, the way the wolves howl in the night, chilling and beautiful. Only when one is in a place that completely lacks danger or mystery can one understand how profoundly the dark places of the world can be missed.
But of course I realize that I am not here for the entertainment, the arts, or the architecture.
But the girls, Madara. The girl. Imagine my shock at finding my future wife –my "princess"- knee-deep in animal waste, barking at me from across a barn and then attempting to stab me in the foot with a farm implement, like a demented stable hand.
Regardless. She is rude. She is uncooperative. She lacks any appreciation of her culture- and certainly of her by the simple fact of her birth.
In sum, Saku Haru is not a vampire. Living in America seems to cleansed our future princess of all traces if the royal blood that we know must have coursed through her veins at birth. She has undergone a terrible cultural dialysis, so to speak.
And her fashion sense… how many manifestations of denim can there be? And the T-shirts with the horses and the arithmetic-related "puns"… is it really "Hip2b"? Would it hurt to wear a dress now and then?
Madara, I realize that I am honor bound to form a relationship with this young woman, but really, can she lead our regions? And as for the two of us sharing any sort of physical intimacy… well, any details you can provide regarding my responsibilities toward that end would be grateful appreciate.
In the meantime, I shall continue my thus far fruitless efforts educate aand engage this impossible American female, in that order. But please, Madara- do consider my concerns.
Your nephew, duty bound,
Sasuke Uchiha
P.S. I've been recruited for basketball. The coach thinks I might start!