//------------------------------//
// From Tia, RE: Letter 97 
// Story: To: Anon, From HRH Sunbutt. 
// by Snow 
//------------------------------//



Dear Anon,

But my friend, how could you not adore the sheer musical genius of a single glass-shattering note held for thirteen full seconds? How could the storyline not simply ensnare you in its riveting and unique premise? How could picturing the ponies as screeching angry cats not amuse you throughout?

In all sincerity Anon, I liked an opera. Once. I had never heard the story idea before, the stallion lead had this gorgeous deep voice that rumbled in the floor beneath my hooves almost as much as my own chest, and the mare lead wasn't trained on just high notes. This was back when star-crossed lovers hadn't been done to death, mind you. Unfortunately that was a long time ago and, well, it turns out sponsoring something new and interesting once means if you stop sponsoring it, you've expressed a great many silly ideas about what you support and the direction art is going and the value of art in modern society and all of that nonsense. 

If I am honest, it's just one of those obligations I have to meet and I wear earplugs when I can't convince some poor fool to share the... 'experience' with me and provide something that isn't dull, droning, screeching, or monotonous in any combination. I'm grateful you came with me. I didn't actually have to take a few tablets of something for a headache afterward.

Your friend,
Tia

PS. Perhaps consider it vengeance for not warning me of the introduction or the premise of Up.