Friday The 13th: The Game's Jason Voorhees, Have You No Honor, Sir?

April 13, 1984

Dear Jason:

I take my role as a summer camp counselor for Camp Crystal Lake very seriously and I have to say, sir, that your conduct has been less than professional. From the Packanack Lodge’s second-story window I have watched you murder my fellow counselors. If I’m next, I’ll at least have my say, maggot head. Myself and the other counselors have been talking. And between reddit and f13 forums (I don’t have time to explain right now, but I think it has something to do with Macintosh personal computers, like at the SuperBowl), we’ve come to several conclusions.

No one has seen the movies. Everyone is certain of this: everyone else hasn’t seen the movies. “I don’t think many of you have actually seen the films, to be honest,” they say.

Counselors who want a weaker Jason should git gud, because they clearly haven’t seen the movies, where you’re depicted as an undead juggernaut who would never let so many counselors elude you. And people who want a stronger Jason, currently enjoying a majority, don’t seem to have seen the movies either. Have they forgotten how regularly Jason got wrestled to the ground and chair-slammed in Friday the 13th Part 2? Or that Jason avoids taking on groups, preferring a divide-and-slaughter strategy with Fox and the other bikers in Friday the 13th Part III?

Jason must be stronger, but not for my benefit. We counselors die at your hand, but die with a hope in our hearts: to become you. It’s true, I can’t see 20 minutes beyond death to whatever awaits me in the afterlife’s lobby, but if there’s one thing I and all other counselors know, it’s that Jason NEEDS to be buffed, but if I were Jason I’m actually really good and get a lot of clean sweeps, so don’t you tell me I’m bad and just need to git gud. Because maybe once or twice I get 7/8, but usually I sweep, because I’m actually really good at Jason, I just need him to be buffed for your benefit because he sucks now and the counselors always win. (Except if I’m Jason.)

Jason, please stop killing me like that, I need to stab you. I have all of these pocket knives, but how am I supposed to use them if you never grab me? What are going to do, just keep slashing me with that pig splitter? What are you, some kind of slasher? Unacceptable, sir. You must provide me with a splashy grab death, because only then will I have the opportunity to use my items. C’mon, let me stab you in the neck. You must.

And finally, since it’s just you and me talking, let me tell you my most private rule: The universal law is my only rule, but everyone else should submit to culture. This may come as a surprise to you, but there’s a lot of anger on the Macintosh networks. Minor changes, like shortening your grab length or ending trap-stacking, can lead us to scream that the world is broken. So long as the pocket knife spawn rate is one or two items more than my perfect, imagined equilibrium, I’d slash counselors to death, but only if I were you. Better than getting stabbed in the neck, which I’d imagine is one of the most frustrating possible experiences a Jason could suffer. If I were in your position, Jason, I wouldn’t let myself get cucked by pocket knives (Yay, I got to say my favorite racist word!). In my own behavior, I intend to continue exploiting the playing field and meeting this Friday the 13th and its opportunities exactly as they present themselves.

But goddamn if I’ll watch other players do the same. Myself and many others have already expressed just how much a slasher Jason should let us stab them in neck, but there are many more layers to the global meta-game I play with other counselors. Counselors with high repair need to fix my car for me. Other players must stop trash talking, it’s not realistic. Let’s agree on my self-evident etiquette people.

I’ve got to go, I think I hear you smashing in the door with an axe downstairs. Real quick: no one’s seen the movies except me, I’m really good, make all the changes I want even though I don’t need them, but until then adjust your play style to the rules I’ve posted in a place that won’t be invented for another 25 years.

Byeeeeeeeee,

A.J. Mason