Dear Granny Smith,
I extend my deepest apologies on behalf of my ill-conceived actions last night. Shooting your dentures out of the bar was NOT part of my recovery plan to get your teeth back, and the follow-up of me smashing head-first into the door to get them back met with predictable results.
I don't know how you two and the guards managed to get me on the chariot, but you have my thanks in making sure I didn't cause any more property damage. I probably would have turned the town upside down looking for those if they didn't fall off, and I mean that in a literal sense.
You know that I didn't mean to fire your dentures out of the bar, and again I thank you for accepting my delirious apologies 26 times over losing your teeth on the way to Ponyville... er, 27 total if you count this one.
However, I absolutely insist on paying for your replacement dentures. I know you have about five spare sets because of your dentist's weird obsession with teeth--yes, even for a dentist--but this was one I lost, not you.
Let me know when you have a new set coming, and I'll foot the bill for it. Just please don't make it cost a ridiculous fortune; I'm paying for teeth, not a gem-studded grill.
Friends Forever,
Princess Celestia
P.S. According to Mayor, I still won. Not gonna rub it in, but I will say I'm ready for a rematch when you are. We both know that victory came about via a dubious conclusion anyway.