• Published 24th Jan 2015
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Letters from an Irritated Princess - Tired Old Man



Celestia writes some blunt letters to her faithful student and friends.

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One Name Too Far, Part 3

Dear one very orange, very unhappy ‘Princess Celestia’,I don’t know what it’s called when a backfire plan backfires, but I think merely calling it “karma” is underwhelming. I also don’t know what it’s called to read somepony else’s mail and/or intercepting correspondence intended for an entirely different recipient, although I’m more certain that’s breaking a law than not.

In any case, the damage done is quite enough, ‘Princess’. In a matter of hours, you managed to introduce an outrageous apple tax turning into a luxury item within minutes, ban the consumption, growth, and even the mere existence of pears down to making the use of the word an unlawful offense. Worst of all, you’ve uprooted every tree I held in my garden and planted apple seeds in their place, according to my very confused and irate sister that’s been screaming in my ear for the past twenty minutes regarding the state of affairs as they’ve presently devolved.

It’s a disaster that could have been entirely preventable, and one I most certainly bear the burden of blame for. To that end, I apologize dearly for my actions to meddle with your name and the great volume upon which I have done so. Further does my apology extend to the years of anguish that have plagued thy tortured mind, body and spirit from petty name-slinging.

‘Tis time we buried this rusty hatchet, Applejack. I don’t expect you to accept this apology immediately — I wouldn’t even blame you if you never accepted it, and it would fully be within your right to do so. However, I am finally ready to let go and move on from this, to truly take you seriously after jesting your serious nature for so long.

All that matters now is whether you’re ready to let it go, and move on. Oh, and the restraining order too. Gods know I’m going to have to spend a week or two tinkering with the law so this sort of nonsense never happens again.

I’ll be waiting at the homestead with Granny Smith. She owes you just as long an apology as mine, if not longer depending on how wordy she is. Also, due to the sensitive nature of this topic, I entrust Luna with this letter so it will have an expedient delivery on our part.

And by the way, yes, she will have a mouthful for me when this is all over. More than a mouthful, if twenty minutes of screaming at my face is a preview of the main event.

Waiting patiently,

‘Applejack’

P.S. If you happen to have any further requests beyond making amends, I beseech thee to state them upon receiving this letter.

~~~

Dear Princess Awfulestia,

Ah only have one request.

Cheerilee’s chalkboard. You will write down the following phrase one thousand times by hoof, no fancy-schmancy magic:

“I will not make fun of Applejack’s name ever again, or my entire garden becomes her new orchard.”

If that name is misspelled or altered even once, say goodbye to the hedge maze and hello to a forest of apple trees.

And just in case I ain’t clear enough, I’ll say this just one more time:

My name is Applejack.

Author's Note:

When you've beaten a dead horse so long you're beating it with another dead horse...

...you make a grave twice as deep.

That said, I'm done with the joke, and ending it's been long overdue. But it might as well go out with a bang, hm?

Thanks for sticking with the ridiculous housekeeping, dear readers. Here's to a new year of ponies, and a good new year for Applejack.

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