Spike was sick with the flu.
Not just any flu, but the grossest, nastiest, coughing, aching, sneezing, puking, bed-ridden cold that he could ever remember. He was so sick, he couldn’t even accompany Dusk Shine to the Best Young Flyers Competition in the Cloudsdale Cloudsdome to cheer on Rainbow Dash. Spike was stuck home alone, watching reruns of Daring Do: The Animated Series while keeping an empty bucket handy in case his stomach got too upset again.
None of this helped when a letter was forced out of his gut in a ball of spring-green flame.
Dear Dusk Shine,
It is I, your Princess of the Night. We know that the time of this parchment must be odd, given that we usually are at peaceful slumber during our sister’s daytime, but alas! We toss and turn, yet we do not sleep. We pace about our bedchamber as we write this, pondering our flirts and follies we scatter your mind with. We look outside the window, seeing the sun at high noon, yet still the thought of sleep is vacant from our mind. How many times doth our two paths crossed but have not met? How many of our actions are justified? At what cost of dignity did our flesh pay for what either of our hearts did not yet decide?
What your Princess is trying to say is that she is sorry.
We are sorry for the dreams of intercourse and bunny suits, because we now know that affair was of ill means, despite its pure and just end. We were wrong to seduce thee and then trick thee into thinking that our passion was nothing but a dream. We know if thou love us truly, thou wouldst forgive us a thousand times over with an open heart. If not, our love twas not meant to be.
With pleading forgiveness,
Princess Luna of Equestria
Spike groaned, his brain figuratively flowing with mucus and headaches. He tossed the letter aside without reading it, telling himself that Dusk could read it himself when he got home.
Yet another letter followed.
Dear Dusk Shine,
If you would, we’d like a reponse now.
A simple ‘I forgive thee’ would be fine.
Or a ‘I don’t forgive thee.’ Whichever. ‘Tis completely up to thou.
Love,
Luna
Dear Dusk,
Please respond. We’ve had enough games. We’d like to wrap our conscience up ASAP so we can go back to sleep.
Love,
Luna
P.S. NOW, PLEASE!!!
Dear Dusk,
We apologize for the snapping tone of our last letter. It’s just that we’ve been through some tough nights recently, and we need to settle this one thing so we can rest a bit easier.
With love,
Princess Luna
P.S. Still waiting for a response.
Dear Dusk Shine,
It’s Luna again.
Please. Write. Back.
Love,
Luna
P.S. Has my sister not told me something? Is ‘please’ no longer the magic word? We shall look it up.
Dear Idiot,
I have looked upon the pages of Google and Urban Dictionary to find that ‘please’ is still the BUCKING MAGIC WORD. SO, ‘PLEASE’ SHOVE THIS LETTER UP THY ANUS IF YOU DON’T WRITE BACK TO US IN THE NEXT THREE SEC
Sorry, sent that one by accident. Throw it away.
Dear Dusk,
Apologies (again) if all these letters seem a little awkward. We also apologize if some of these sound ‘threatening’ or ‘violent.’ After all, the Royal Physician said that we shall be prone to mood swings in the next nine moons.
IF THOU ART READING THIS, BURN THE LAST LETTER WE SENT THEE!!! DO NOT READ ITS VILE CONTENTS, JUST BURN IT!!!!!
Dear Dusk Shine,
If thou art reading this, drop whatever thou art doing and just write something to us. Anything. Literally anything. Just write thy name on a piece of parchment and sent it to us.
With a calm, patient head,
Princess Luna
P.S. I know this is sudden, butWe need to talk, becauseGood news,Bad news,I, Princess Luna, am going to beThou art to beBY THE HOLY TITANS, SPIT IT OUT LUNA!
We love thee. Never forget that. We will always love thee, even when we don’t know why.WHY CAN’T WE TELL HIM? WE’RE SUCH A COWARD!
Spike vomited, the constant letters giving him the worst of stomach aches. After five minutes passed with nothing else coming out of his mouth, he relaxed and lay his head on his pillow.
But unfortunately for him, five minutes later...
*BURRRP!*
Dear Dusk Shine,
We’re pregnant.
There, we said it. Let us tell you, it took some courage.
Luna
P.S. Please respond. Never have we felt so scared.
P.P.S. Please! We NEED thee now! It feels like our head shall explode at any time!
P.P.P.S. A response is all I ask. All I require. All I need.
Dear Dusk,
It’s yours.
The foal is yours. We forgot to include that. Sorry.
In case thou is wondering, it was during the dream-sex. Left that part out too.
Look, if thou aren’t replying out of fear of us, we want thee to know that we aren’t mad. In fact, when we first found out, we were actually a little happy. We even thought it to be a miracle, even. After a thousand years on the moon, we felt as though the universe was finally being generous. The universe gave us our sister back, it gave us you, and now we have a child coming.
Things were finally starting to go our way for the first time in a long, long, long, long time. See, it was almost like we were going to have a family again. That’s something we haven’t felt since Father and Mother died. Until we met you, it was just us and our sister, and even that sometimes wasn’t enough. Tia and I hardly ever saw each other, and even when we did, she hogged all of the attention. And well... thoust already know of the end of that story.
The point is, when I first found about our foal, I was happy. Then, I thought about how little you saw us, how you try to flirt with that ‘Fluttershy’ mare, and generally how the press would act if they found out that we had a baby without being married and... well, here we are, writing letter after letter to you without a wink of sleep.
Please respond.
Love,
Luna
Dear Dusk,
MARRIAGE! We completely forgot to address that!!
Okay, so wilt thou marry us? We could even elope!
Your blushing bride,
Princess Luna
Dear Dusk,
Don’t read that last letter. Burn it. Too personal.
We wanted to propose face-to-face anyway
Dear Dusk,
Don’t read the last two letters. They have ATROCIOUS grammar mistakes.
Love,
Luna
P.S. Please respond.
P.P.S. Thou know what? Forget the ‘please’ already. Just respond RIGHT FREAKING NOW.
P.P.P.S. And when we say, “Just respond RIGHT FREAKING NOW,” we mean, ”RESPOND YESTERDAY.”
DEAR DICKHEAD,
RESPOND, YOU MOTHERBUCKING SON OF A FESTOONED PIECE OF BAT GUANO!!!! IF WE FIND OUT THAT THOU ART JUST READING LETTER AFTER LETTER WITHOUT WRITING BACK, THOU ART A DEAD PONY!!! THOU HEAR US? A DEAD PONY!!!!!!
WITH HATING YOUR EVER-LOVING GUTS,
TAKE A BUCKING GUESS, YOU LITTLE SHIT!!!
P.S. WE WILL NAME OUR BABY “DEAD PONY JR!”
Dear Dusk,
Again, sorry. We might have ‘freaked out there,’ as the commoners say. Just write back as soon as you can.
We are tired. We’re going to bed now, so don’t get mad if we don’t respond to you immediately.
Who knows? Maybe we’ll finally get some sleep with this off our chest now.
Love,
Princess Luna
P.S. We love thee. Never forget that. We will always love thee, even when we don’t know why.