//------------------------------//
// The Letter 
// Story: State of the Crusades 
// by Shockhoof 
//------------------------------//

	The three cutiemark crusaders sat around the worn down table in their treehouse. All of their eyes were focused at the center of the table. Apple Bloom swallowed hard.
“Well girls, we really ate the core of the apple this time.”
Sweetie Belle just gave a shallow nod in response, her green eyes never leaving the very official looking red envelope positioned between them.
“Do you think we’ll get off easy?” Scootaloo asked. The lighting in their clubhouse was dim. All of the shutters were closed, letting only the most persistent beams of sunlight splash across their faces.
“Nah, my sis was redder than Big Macintosh when she showed up to save us.”
“That uh, letter is really thick. What do you suppose it says?” Scootaloo glanced nervously around the room at her friends, they shrugged back. The clock on the wall seemed to let each second hang in the air for an excruciatingly long time before ticking onward.
“I dunno but I aint looking forward to finding out.”
“Big sis says that we have to open it before the sun goes down,” Sweetie Belle’s voice dipped as she scrunched her nose thinking about the disappointment that had permeated the room during her last conversation with Rarity.
“Well, I’m not gonna open it.” Scootaloo leaned towards the center of the table and pushed the nearly exploding envelope over to Apple Bloom.
“Well I’ve never been that good at reading.” The letter slid across the wood table over to Sweetie.
“What?” She squeaked angrily. “I never wanted to go into the Everfree in the first place! It was all your idea.” She raised her hoof and jerked it at Scootaloo. Scootaloo flinched.
“Yeah but, I mean look how big it is. And it’s from Mayor Mare. There’s no way I’m enough of an egghead to know all the fancy words she’s going to use. Its like three hundred pages! You’re the dictionary here.” As the letter slid back over to Scootaloo, she immediately shoved it back to Sweetie.
“Hold it.” The squabble that had been about to break out almost instantly dissipated when Apple Bloom spoke up. “There’s only one fair way to do this.”
“Nose goes!” Scootaloo shouted, her hoof already on the tip of her muzzle. Apple  Bloom’s hoof was the second to reach her face, with Sweetie nearly clocking herself in her attempt.
“Oh come on!” she shouted in upset. With her free hoof Apple Bloom tapped the envelope while looking at Sweetie, her hoof never leaving her face the whole time.
Sweetie grumbled while glaring at the envelope like it had just bit her.
She slowly pulled it towards her, and flipped it over, staring at the red wax seal with the Mayor’s tied scroll cutiemark on it. She slowly reached a hoof out and tugged at the seal until it opened, the paper inside almost seeming the burst out.
She swallowed hard as she tugged the stark white paper out of the envelope, and unfolded it. After it was unfolded the thing seemed to only be a few pages, and not the hundreds that the parcel would have suggested. The paper was thick and felt official as she looked at the ink marks that were clearly the product of a typewriter.
Sweetie coughed to clear her throat, and started to read aloud. “D-dear missus Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo,

“As the Mayor of ponyville it falls unto me to keep order within our dear town. Unfortunately on occasion certain individuals will make this particularly difficult, and it pains my heart when I must decide the punishments handed out to those individuals, especially when those individuals are the younger siblings of some of Equestria’s greatest heroes.”

There was an audible gulp from every pony in the room as Sweetie paused. The air seemed thick and seemed to smother any thoughts of a light punishment.

“Your actions on the fifth of february, in the two thousandth forty second year of our Princess Celestia have caused great damage not only to much of the municipal property, but also to the private property, and to the feeling of safety that everyone in town holds in their hearts.”
“Oh man, we’re so poached.” Scootaloo buried her head under her hooves on the table. Dread started to pool in her stomach and she suddenly felt like she had tried to swallow a rock as a lump formed in her throat.
“The marketplace is in shambles, and one pony --  in his panic -- managed to get himself stuck under an overturned cart for an entire day. Several others sustained minor injuries.” 
“Yeah, not to mention Twilight had to pull Opal out of a tree, and Fluttershy had to calm the thing down.” Apple Bloom mentioned, her face resting on one hoof on the table.
Sweetie cleared her throat again. “Additionally the local Manticore population has awoken from hibernation early, effectively cancelling the Wild Blueberry Festival which was to be held next week, and the jelly making portion of this year’s Sisterhooves Social.”
Sweetie glared at Scootaloo over the top of the letter. She received a sheepish grin in response.
“As part of your punishment I sentence you all to,” Sweetie Belle’s eyes continued to the end of the page and she frowned and furrowed her brow.
“To what? Sentence us to what!” Scootaloo shouted across the table, losing her abiltiy to hold her nerve any more.
“I don’t think you want to know.” Sweetie placed the papers face down and shook her head solemnly.
“Sweetie just tell us what it is already.” Apple Bloom had clearly heard enough and just wanted the nerveracking moment to end.
“Four hundred hours of community service.” There was a brief moment of silence as everyone registered what that meant.
“Four hundred hours! That’s like forever! I haven’t even been alive for four hundred hours! How am I going to ever get to watch Rainbow Dash do her awesome, amazing, and fantastic tricks if I’m stuck picking up garbage?” Scootaloo threw her hooves into the air in exasperation.
“You have too. You’re way older than four hundred hours. Don’t you pay attention in math class?” Apple Bloom started, “there are twenty four hours in a day, so that’s only like seventeen days.”
“I knew that.” Scootaloo crossed her forelegs and started pouting. Sweetiebelle just started looking through the remaining pages.
“Oh pony feathers, this is on top of whatever Applejack has me doing until the day I drop dead from boredom on the farm.” Apple Bloom let her head slide from her hoof and smack onto the table, not bothering to move it or comment on the minor pain now numbing her forehead.
“All of our hours have to be used helping ponies who were hurt, or had damaged property by the manticore; and we have to get them to sign off on every hour; and we have to write a formal apology letter to each and every one of them.” Sweetie passed each of them a page for getting signatures.        
“Ugh, I bet Rarity will convince Mom to ground me for a month, too.”
“This is terrible! I’ll never get to see Rainbow Dash fly again!” Scootaloo threw her hooves into the air again, flailing around until she fell off of her stool with a thud.
        “It’s not that bad. Maybe we could get our cutiemarks in writing apology letters,” Apple Bloom offered.
        “What would that even be called?” Scootaloo asked from the floor, unmoving as she stared up at the ceiling with regret.
        “Apologists?” Sweetie suggested.
        Scootaloo sat up slowly and looked between her two friends. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
        “This is the worst idea for crusading yet,” Sweetie remarked.
        “Alright, Cutimark Crusader Apologists Go!” they all shouted in unison.