//------------------------------// // Bonus: Spur of the Moment Spurred Me To Action, Part 2 // Story: Letters from an Irritated Princess // by Tired Old Man //------------------------------// Dear Spike, Thank you for being a good friend to Rarity in this matter. Please give this scroll to Twilight. Twilight, thank you for giving me a full, unbiased report on Rarity’s current status. I’m not sure where Rarity found a snow shovel during spring (big winter blowout?), but bringing that to my attention is most appreciated. If you're still reading this, give this letter to Rarity. If she’s otherwise preoccupied with her tub of Gem and Berry’s, find a way to hold my reply up to her face. If you're not reading this, then... SPIKE, I already told you to give this to Twilight! If you can’t do that, do what I asked Twilight to do, or start reading my response out loud. Or if Rarity is reading this, thank you for not stuffing your face long enough to read my reply. In any case, whoever is holding this, I’m going to start. Firstly, Rarity, I understand exactly how upset you are, and I don’t mean because Twilight explained your situation. It seems you’d written some comments after her explanation as a supplemental afterword of sorts. Whatever you’d written there surely must have been you pouring out all of your anger, frustration, and sorrow out on the parchment laid out before you. There’s just one problem: I can’t read them. In fact, most if not all of your words were downright illegible on account of the fact that your section of this letter I received is completely covered in melted globs of ice cream. It currently reads, "Death by Cherry Garcia, Grandma's Cookie-Cake Dough-Batter, and finishes with Pistachio Blackberry Caribou Tracks.” I don't even think you care about the taste at this point, and that is truly an alarming sign. That's maybe half as bad as the night I banished Luna, and if you're that disturbed, I'd rather you not spend a century wallowing in misery, eating cake frosting straight out of a three-gallon bucket.I don't think your situation is that dire, but just in case I have some pointers for you to consider when you have a moment to put down that snow shovel Twilight says you're using right now. No, seriously. Put that shovel down. Now. I want you to think about the question I’m about to ask. Think hard through your storm of emotions and the potential brain freeze. Do you think Maud meant to hurt you? Do you really believe that? I’m not saying this because you shouldn’t be hurt by this—you were, and you have a right to be upset by what Maud said. Yet you’ve spent time with her. Surely you’ve gathered some idea of how peculiar her behavior and personality are compared to all of your other friends. Please give some consideration to the context in which you knew her before this moment, especially when she makes her apology for that remark. Yes, she will apologize. How, I won’t tell you. You’ll just have to see it for yourself. Until then, see if you can find some forgiveness in your heart. It wouldn’t do for her apology to get a stone-cold reception. Best Regards, Princess Celestia P.S. It would also help if you grew some thicker skin. Not just for this, but as general supportive advice. I can't help but think you should have developed that considering how many fashion critics you've put up with, but it's better you do this late than never. Also, for my sake, use a napkin the next time you eat and write. You have no idea how difficult this was to unravel with how sticky it became.