Letters From A Disgruntled Friendship Student
The Ticket Master
Dear Princess Celestia
Well, I've only been in Ponyville for a few days, and it seems that you are already getting me back for dropping out of school.
It all started when I was helping Applejack pick apples. Why, you might ask? Because she wants to turn her brother into a transvestite. He must want to do it, too. Why else would he accept a dare to wear his grandmother's underwear? So that's why I'm helping. Because I want to see a stallion in drag. I swear, that must be one screwed up family.
Then what should happen? My walking, talking, purple fax machine gets a letter from the revered Princess, inviting me plus one guest to the most popular dress-up-and-act-important event of the year, the Grand Galloping Gala, and quite frankly, there are several things wrong with this. One, these are not my friends. Getting close to acquaintances, maybe, and definitely on my list of ponies that are better than you. But not friends.
Two; there are five of them, you troll. Not one, but five. This is Ponyville. Do you think that four of them are going to want to stay here and be noponies? No. They want to be noticed, because life sucks here, so now they're going to fight over who I get to drag to this stupid party.
Oh great, they're doing me favors now. Like this is supposed to make the decision any easier. Sorry you guys, but Applejack force fed me 30 apple dishes, so I'll be taking her. Yeah, Rainbow dug a three-foot hole in a raincloud, and let everypony else get soaked during lunch, so she's going with me. Oh, Fluttershy forced her slave bunny to clean the library and make me a salad, the ticket is hers. Oh shoot, Rarity really won me over with this slutty outfit she made for me and her to whore ourselves at the Gala. But then Pinkie had to go toss me up in the air multiple times, nearly making me throw up, and then tell the entire damn town that I have these tickets.
Once I was finally back at the library, I told them all to fuck off. I knew they were going to end up blaming me no matter what, so I sent the tickets back to you. I don't want to go to this upper class par-tay anyway.
So when what do you do? Because I saw right through your little troll attempt, you send me six tickets, practically forcing us all to go. Thanks a lot. You suck.