Never the Final Word (Vol. 2)

by FanOfMostEverything

FoME's Dear Princess Cesium-137 (Tumbleweed's "Letters from an Irradiated Princess")

Author's Note:

[Comedy][Epistolary]

This is a continuation of Tumbleweed's Letters from an Irradiated Princess (1,132 words, [Comedy][Random])

SPOILERS FOR AN IRRADIATED PRINCESS: One thing leads to another and the next thing you know, one of Twilight's research projects has led to Canterlot being attacked by a giant, fire-breathing, radioactive centipede. Twilight manages to teleport the beast to an uninhabited island, but not before it wrecked part of the castle and left even more radioactive droppings in the rest.

Dear Princess Celestia,

Gargantulon is quite happy on Monster Island, which thanks to its Everfree-like self-sustaining ecosystem, is putting up an admirable but futile struggle against my glorious creation

Dear Princess Celestia,

Gargantulon and Monster Island appear to agree with each other quite nicely. Given the half-life of his radioactive aura, it should be safe for pony visitation within the decade. On that note, I have a plan for the leavings, provided that my hypothesis about your connection to the Sun giving you immunity to any form of harmful radiation is correct. If not, I have several other plans, though none of them will be quite as enlightening fun expeditious.

Also, Rainbow Dash says that if we don't want her naming things, we should name them first.

Your fellow princess,
Twilight Sparkle

Comments

[horizon]

Dear Twilight,

Regarding your plan for Gargantulon's leavings, which you helpfully outlined in the appendix of your latest scroll —

I cannot argue that the plan as stated would fail to accomplish its objectives. Indeed, it is brilliant in its own unique way. Condensing 60 tons of leavings into a neutronium-dense suit of pony-sized armor would provide significant physical protection while not overly taxing my natural alicorn strength; wearing a suit of witheringly radioactive armor to a battlefield would certainly result in (as you so charmingly put it) "causing Equestria's enemies to fall like wheat to the scythe, driving them before [me] and hearing the lamentations of their females"; and your footnote about the odor finishing the radiation's job certainly contains both tactical and jocular merit.

However, I also cannot help but point out that tactical advantage might not be the only factor we wish to consider. First of all, in times of crisis, ponies look to me as their leader, and in times of war my role is to stand at the front of our armies and lead by example. It would be unconscionable for me to don apparel which, due to proximity, would be more lethal to my beloved Equestrians than to my foes. Second, although I have respect for your firm opinion that the advancement of science should not be hobbled by the court of public opinion, please understand that there is a certain … lack of dignity … to the wearing of concentrated feces which would inflict unpleasant social consequences upon me for generations to come. Third, and most importantly, I hope you can imagine the fear and chaos involved if the creator and lead signatory of the Strawsbourg Agreement, the Haygue Convention, AND the Geneighva Protocols were to disregard centuries of her own impassioned diplomacy in order to embrace a weapon of mass destruction.

Again, I must beg you not to take this as a reproach. It is exactly your unconventional approaches to friendship problems which have saved Equestria time and time again, and the last thing I wish to do is restrain your brilliant intellect. However — as I would hope we learned with the little Smarty Pants incident — not all ideas can be winners.

With much love,
Celestia

P.S.: Regarding our Rainbow Dash problem, I attempted to enlist the help of Dr. Linneighus from Canterlot University, but I'm sorry to say he refused. He was apparently enamored with Rainbow's recent suggestion to rename L. guttulus (a small-sized cousin of the common ocelot) from the "southern tigrina" to the "ocelittle".

[Cander]

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