Lord Tirek sat in his prison of steel and stone, staring out across the hellish landscape. "Ah, another lovely day in Tartarus," he whispered to himself. "Yes, a lovely day indeed." He slammed his fists into the walls of his cage, but it was useless; yesterday, the cage would have crumbled instantly, wrecked beyond all recognition. Today?
He slammed his fists into the walls of his cage again. Today, they did not even move.
Not for the first time, he turned his head to look out, but there was nothing for him here: no rubble to use to weaken the bars, no foolish mailpony to—
His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pain on the top of his head as something struck him before bouncing off his shoulder, falling to the ground with a thump. A second impact announced the presence of a second projectile as he shielded his face with his hands and looked up, spotting a familiar pegasus hovering overhead.
"You again?" His lips twisted in a snarl before he thought better of it, turning up the corners of his mouth in a smile, but in his anger, he could do little better than a rictus grin. "I know you must be angry, but—"
His words were wasted, much as all effort was in this place; she was already gone. Rubbing his head, he bent downwards, his eyes narrowing on a small slip of white paper sitting on the ground, elegant hoofwriting covering the surface.
Tirek;
I don't know how you managed to escape, but I would not expect it to be so easy next time. Know that the guardian has been given permission to ensure that your continued presence in Tartarus by any means necessary, and that he was told he was a very bad dog for allowing your escape. I would not attempt to leave your cage if I were you.
While I did not determine your means of escape, in the course of my investigations, I did discover that you received, in error, a free subscription to Better Lairs and Landscaping magazine. Given the damage you did to the Everfree Forest, I fear that magazine positively impacted neither your attitude nor your skill at gardening.
However, this discovery did make me recognize a lapse in my administration, for which I must apologize. It is the general policy of the Equestrian prison system to ensure that our prisoners do not lack for stimulation during their imprisonment, a policy which we have been in remiss in enforcing on your behalf. I spent some time considering what reading materials might be appropriate given your proclivity towards violence, but one of my subjects quickly suggested a list of periodicals she felt you - or at least, your sense of aesthetics - may benefit from.
I have enclosed a copy of the first magazine of your new subscription with this letter. Enjoy.
Princess Celestia
PS. Give my regards to Cerberus.
Lord Tirek snarled, crushing the paper in his fist, willing that it burn as he had destroyed so much else, but with no magic left in him, he could do little but shudder in rage. Whirling around, he cast about for the other thing which had struck him, the rustle of paper underhoof announcing its presence. He stepped back, narrowing his eyes and glaring down at the magazine, which sported an earth pony posing on the cover in a hideous dress covered in sequins.
"Mystique magazine?" He snatched it from the ground, holding it up close to his eyes. "The mane issue? 101 new ways to do yours today? What to eat for an amazing coat?" His whole body shuddered with rage. "Sapphire Shores – stuff she only tells her marefriends?"
Lord Tirek hurled the magazine across his cage, the folded pages making a loud thump as they struck the bars. "I will not be mocked!" he shouted to the hazy skies, shaking his fist at them.
Snarling, he stomped across his prison cell, his hooves no longer shaking the ground with every step. He swung his thin and withered arms at the wall of his cell, wincing in pain as the steel bars held rather than tearing apart like cardboard.
He opened his hand, the crushed letter sliding from between his fingers as he stared out into the forsaken wasteland around him, the same as it had ever been for the last thousand years.
Lord Tirek glanced back over his shoulder; the magazine still sat where it had fallen, its cover glistening in the dull light. Just one look couldn't hurt...