Dear Discord,
I thank you for the surprise package of singing teabags. At first I was confused because you don’t normally send tea to me—your gag gifts are usually less charming and more along the lines of lion-headed Dandelions and the ever-so-eloquently named Tiger Lilies. It’s reasons like this that your note of “Try One, then send it along” had me apprehensive to this latest offering of yours.
Then this one tea bag I picked started singing “Hello, My Teatime Gal” with blowout vocals. It was, without question, the best thing you’ve given me since a bouquet that wasn’t based on kitty wordplay.
I’ve sent this box of tea on to wherever else this worldly package had to travel, but since then this teabag started to give me problems. Teabagging tea bag singing ragtime problems.
Do you know what the worst part is? Nopony believes me that this thing is teabagging! “Sister, it’s just bobbing up and down in the air like any other enchanted tea bag.” “Auntie, that’s a female! It’s twerking, not teabagging.” “Wait a minute, Bigger Big Sis! Tea bags can sing?! Oh my gosh, I’ve gotta try that!”
...I will regret showing Sunny your abominable tea bag later. For now, I’m considering sending this tea bag back. It started off strongly in my favor, but now it’s done nothing but leave a bad taste in my mouth despite its majestic vocal chords. This is all before I’ve started brewing it, and I’m not sure I want to know how it tastes now.
Well, more than likely I will, but if this thing starts screaming bloody murder in my tea kettle, you can bet this is the kind of tea that’s only worth a sip, and not one more.
Here’s to hoping the worst thing that’s going to happen to me today is this tea bag of your nefarious design and I don’t receive any further foodstuffs from you. I’ve already got enough demented concoctions to eat courtesy of myself and my sister, not to mention our doppelgangers’ increasingly alarming contributions.
I’m not opposed to receiving more ‘fun’due from you, however. Dinner and a show never gets old.
Forwarding your singing tea to pester somepony else,
Princess Celestia
Sunny? What’s in that bag, and why is it thrashing?
Y-You made tea. I’m scared to ask, but what kind is it?
Oh, spearmint! I love a good minty tea, but I wouldn’t think they’d be so agitated—
Sunny. Did you arm those things with toothpicks?
I don’t care if they asked politely! You don’t give tiny spears to spearmint!