//------------------------------// // Guilty - bookplayer (Wet Feathers Letter 2) // Story: AppleDash Group Collab // by DbzOrDie //------------------------------// Dear AJ, I’m glad you liked my last letter. And I’m really really glad you decided to show me exactly how much you liked it. If you want to do that every week, it’s totally cool. But this week, it’s probably a long shot. Okay, so I’m totally not admitting anything. You have no proof. I can’t even move the cider press by myself. But I’ll totally pay to have it fixed, because you know how much I love cider. Also because if I might have been somehow involved in breaking it, it would only be fair. It would also only be fair for somepony else to help pay for it, not that I would ever rat out a certain pink friend who promised me that she was sure that pineapples would work just as well as apples in a cider press, which they don’t by the way, and that pineapple-apple cider would be awesome. Which it might or might not be, I don’t know, because pineapples do not work in a cider press. And if I was somehow involved in something like that, I’d also be really really sorry for not telling you, and for breaking it, and for making you mad. I never want to make you mad, and if I thought that something I did would end up making you mad, I would never have done it. Not that I did it. If I did something that did make you mad, I’d also be really happy that you’re such an awesome and forgiving and cool and forgiving marefriend, who would totally respect that I had to apologize, but wanted to do it in a way that you wouldn’t yell at me. At least not right away. I’m putting the money in the envelope with this letter. When you get this on Friday, if you’re not mad, I might be someplace in the clouds over the park. You can come and tell me that it’s cool. If you are mad, I went to Cloudsdale for the day. Either way, even though we both have no idea what exactly happened to the cider press, I’ve learned some very important lessons about not sneaking around behind your back, and not putting pineapples in the cider press. Writing letters makes telling you all of this a lot easier. Or at least quieter and less painful. Love you even when you’re mad, Dash