• Published 30th May 2012
  • 51,616 Views, 1,056 Comments

Princess Celestia Hates Tea - Skywriter

Seriously, a lot.

  • ...

Part Two

* * *
Princess Celestia Hates Tea

(Seriously, a lot.)

part two

by Jeffrey C. Wells

* * *

"Dysgeusia," said Dr. Caduceus, my Royal Physician, as we pushed our way through the frenetic crowd of junior ministers, each one waving papers at me.

"Gesundheit," I said, attempting a funny. It was a good day to be a junior minister, all told, because in my growing frustration with the ridiculous predicament I found myself in, I had been swinging my approval-stamp around wild and free, as though I were threshing grain with it. I was pretty much approving anything that even looked like a stack of papers at this point, and quite a few things that didn't. I seem to recall bestowing a rather impressive portfolio of executive powers upon an ornamental vase a few hundred yards back, for instance. I hoped that it would not abuse them.

"No, Highness," said Dr. Caduceus. "Dysgeusia, meaning—"

"A disruption in the sensation of taste, yes, Doctor," I said. "I'm well aware."

The maroon-colored unicorn harrumphed a bit as he muscled past a helpless errand-colt. "Then you'll also know," he said, "that there's any number of illnesses that can evoke symptoms of dysgeusia. Serious illnesses, Highness."

"Doctor Caduceus," I said, giving casual approval to a multi-thousand bit study on the effects of cheese upon the world's magnetic field. "I appreciate your concern. I want to assure you that there has been no change in my perception of the flavor of tea. I find it equally distasteful today as I did yesterday, and as I did the day before."

Caduceus clucked his tongue in his mouth and lifted up a little clipboard and pencil in his telekinetic field. "Memory disruption," he muttered, as he wrote.

"This is serious, Doctor," I said, idly designating March as National Herring Month.

"Of course it is, Highness!" he said. "Dysgeusia and memory disruption? That narrows the field considerably, in a rather alarming direction! Paraneoplastic syndrome comes readily to mind."

"You blame absolutely everything on paraneoplastic syndrome, Doctor," I said. "I sent one of my chambermaids to you with a troublesome stone in her hoof, and you returned her with a diagnosis of paraneoplastic syndrome." I punctuated my utterance by funding an entire polar expedition, complete with sled-dogs.

"It's the silent killer," he said, ominously. "And the noisy one. And basically all levels of death-volume in between."

"I'm certain it is," I said, granting Most Favorable Trade status to a candelabra and accidentally declaring one of my adjutants an independent nation unto herself. Just a few more yards to the audience hall. Buck up, Celestia, you can do this…

"I'm telling you, Your Highness," said Caduceus. "You're not a well mare. As your personal physician, I formally advise you to delay the Day Court until you're feeling a bit more, ahm, sane."

"Sane?" I said, quirking my brow at him as I effortlessly annexed a handful of territories on my primary swing and sent several thousand tons of yams to a starving nation on the Zebra subcontinent with my follow-through. "You know what would make me a bit more sane, Doctor Caduceus? Getting out of this crowd of junior ministers and retiring to the peace and tranquility of my public audience hall!" I blinked. "And, yes, I did just say that!"

"Very well, Princess," said Caduceus, sighing theatrically. "You're the god-empress, I suppose."

"Thank you," I said, passing the last few yards of this tedious gauntlet and throwing open the doors to the audience hall.

My audience hall was absolutely full.

We are not referring to "fire-marshal's recommendations" levels of fullness. We are not even referring to "maximum safe capacity" levels of fullness. We are referring to "it would be physically impossible to cram even a single additional soul into this room" levels of fullness. The presence of copious numbers of pegasus petitioners even assured that the room was filled to absolute mathematical capacity two to three vertical levels deep.

Virtually everypony in the room was marked with a tea-related Cutie Mark.

We had ponies marked with teapot Marks. We had ponies marked with tea-strainer Marks. We had ponies with trendy French Press tea-preparation system Marks. We had ponies whose flanks were marked with a trio of tea leaves, or a trio of silken teabags. One husky, bearded pony sported a wonderfully detailed silver samovar with matching sugar-bowl on his behind. Every single tea-talented pony in all Equestria had made her or his way to the capital city, overnight.

My audience hall was filled with an entire solid wall of pony.

And, the second I showed my face at the door, it was also filled with an entire solid wall of noise. Some were concerned tea-merchants, angry at what my declaration might do to their bottom line in the next fiscal quarter. Some were tea zealots, morally outraged that I would dare sling such base slander at their apotheotic beverage. And some were merely good Samaritans who were worried that maybe their Princess had lost her zest for eternal life, and was in need of a good hot cup of tea to cheer her up, tea which they would gratefully provide.

I delicately shut my eyes, and then addressed the room in ringing tones of heart-rending clarity, tones which would brook no over-speak.

"Attention, my beloved pony subjects!" I announced, as the room fell silent in ripples before me. "It is with great regret that I tell you that the Day Court will be hearing absolutely no tea-related business this day!"

Murmurs of protest and dismay began spreading like ground-fire. I spoke again to quash them. "Clearly, there is more to be heard on the topic of tea than any one Princess can manage in a single day of petitions. Return to Canterlot Castle at eight o'clock on the morrow, and queue up before the office of the Ombudspony of the Courts, so that we may approach this crisis with some semblance of organization!"

It is difficult to argue with me when I get my stern face on. Moping and dragging hooves, the throng of petitioners slowly began to clear its way out of my audience hall, a process that took nearly an hour, all told. I spread my wings and flapped over the crowd to my throne, waiting patiently to see what actual business could be attended to to-day.

When all was said and done, I was left alone in the echoing audience hall with a single goldenrod-hued pony, bearing a Mark of three wheat-heads.

I smiled, beatifically. "Approach the Throne," I said, "and state your name."

The young mare did so, curtsying low. "Amber Waves," she said. "From Neighbraska."

"Speak, Amber Waves," I said. "What is your petition?"

"Well, begging your pardon, Highness, I originally came here to petition the Court for some relief from a powerful blight that's been affecting our wheat crop, but—"

"No sooner said than done," I said, so anxious to be dealing with anything not tea-related that I practically trod all over her words with my enthusiasm. "I have many earth ponies at my disposal with special gifts for driving blight from crops, and all their powers I lend to you."

"Yes, but," said Amber Waves, scratching at a flagstone with one roughly-shorn hoof. "Is it… is it true what all them other ponies were saying about you not liking tea any more?"

"Well, yes," I said, dragging my expression of distant, cosmic joy up the metaphorical wall and hammering it into place with good, heavy nails. "That all is true."

Amber Waves shook her head, and then turned away toward the door. "This changes everything," she muttered, as she trotted away.

I gazed out over my completely empty audience hall.

"Well!" I said. "Court's adjourned, I suppose."

"One moment, Princess," came a familiar voice from the door. I looked up. There, making her way down the velvet carpet leading to my throne, was my Faithful Student, looking a bit grey and haggard and heavy-lidded. Accompanying her was the Royal Tea Stewardess, Mrs. Cozy, her eyes rimmed in red. She sniffled occasionally as she walked.

"Princess," said Twilight Sparkle, striding forward, "I know you said you wouldn't be hearing tea-related business today, but—"

"Twilight," I said, "you are my Faithful Student, and Mrs. Cozy is a valued member of my household. Blanket declarations do not always apply to those dearest to my heart."

Twilight nodded at me, seeming satisfied, and then gestured to Mrs. Cozy. The old unicorn approached the throne, curtsying low before me.

"Mrs. Cozy?" I said.

Mrs. Cozy burst into open tears. "You always told me you enjoyed my tea!" the old mare wailed. "For years, you complimented me, over and over, on how wonderful my tea was!"

"Please do not take personal insult at this ludicrous chain of events, Mrs. Cozy," I said, praying for some sort of rope to be thrown to me. "I am familiar enough with tea from my many, many thousands of years consuming it to know when a cuppa is prepared with skill, flair, and integrity. You are a true master of the craft, Mrs. Cozy, and my individual taste for the beverage in question in no way darkens my appreciation for the work you do and the outstanding manner in which you do it."

For all my words, Mrs. Cozy was inconsolable. "Just last week!" she cried. "Just last week I was talking to my sweet granddaughter Chai, saying if she kept it up and practiced her brewing that maybe she could someday be the Royal Tea Stewardess in my place! She was so happy to hear me say that, begging your pardon, Highness. Lit right up like a Hearth's Warming tree. What am I supposed to tell her now?"

"Mrs. Cozy—"

"What am I supposed to tell her?" said Mrs. Cozy, and then she was lost to choked weeping. Overcome with emotion, she blew her nose into her apron and then wheeled about and left the hall at full gallop; her crying was audible long after she had vanished from sight.

I sighed, rose from my throne, and descended the steps to my Faithful Student.

"Twilight," I said, "I begin to perceive that I may have made an error."

From my student, naught but stony silence.

"Do you remember the first time we shared tea, Princess?" she said, delicately, after a time.

"Yes," I said. Et tu, Twilight Sparkle? I thought.

"For months, I'd been observing you take tea in our study room at the Lyceum, watching you enjoy a cup or two while I practiced forms of the Uncluttered Path. And it smelled so heavenly, like flowers and warm rain, and I begged and begged you to let me try some, so finally, one day, you sat down with me and poured me a little. And it made me so happy, Princess. It felt like my heart would burst."

Her face darkened. "Then I tasted it, and it tasted like I was gargling with dirt. But I kept smiling the entire time, gagging my way through the whole cup, because I knew that if Princess Celestia loved and enjoyed it, it must be something special. And then when I got back to the boarding-rooms, I snuck a bunch of this horrible black Nilgiri stuff from the bins in the kitchen and I brewed myself about twenty-eight cups of it and I drank it all in six minutes flat, and then I just sat there shaking until about four A.M. when I finally fell unconscious and then I had these terrible nightmares about being tormented by animated pitchers of cream poking me with tiny little spoons."

"I, er—"

"But I kept drinking it!" she said, her eyes going a bit crazy. "And drinking it and drinking it and drinking it! And gradually, I started to like it, even though it turned me into an absolute raging caffeine addict! You don't know how much of my parents' care-package money went straight into my tea-strainer, Princess! It got to a point where I deliberately had to step myself down to coffee because my eyes were starting to turn yellow and I woke up every morning with the ability to hear colors!"

She stood there for a moment, panting.

"I did it for you, Princess," she continued, at last. "I did it because I wanted to be you. There's a part of me that still believes, that's dead-set and convinced, that you can't not like tea."

"I'm… so, so sorry," I said, simply.

"No," said Twilight, firmly. "You don't need to apologize. Because you know what? I thought it over last night, and I came to a realization, and I'm feeling a whole lot better about it now."

"One bright spot, then, at least," I said, smiling. "There's a lot of misinformation resting in my ponies' minds, Twilight, most of it my fault. My personal physician thinks I'm insane, or have paraneoplastic syndrome, or am insane because I have paraneoplastic syndrome, or something like that."

"Well, I think it's time we set the record straight. You've got a meeting with the High Cabinet this afternoon, correct?"

"Yes," I said. "Mostly concerned with damage control from my little tea tantrum."

"I would be honored if you would let me attend and stand by your side for it."

"And I," I said, "would be honored if you would do so."

"Great!" said Twilight, brightly, as we trotted out of the audience hall, side-by-side. "Don't worry, Princess. We'll fix this. You'll see."

* * *

"Mares and gentlecolts of the High Cabinet," I said, addressing them. "I realize that it is not a matter of protocol to begin proceedings such as these with an apology, but in this case, I feel one is warranted, and as humility has never been one of my greatest strengths, I find it meet that I should cultivate any such leanings in my soul." I gazed, clear-eyed, at each one of them in turn. "My faithful ministers," I declared, "I am sorry for behaving in a most un-Princesslike fashion yesterday and inadvertently compromising the bedrock of Equestrian society over a relatively trivial matter of beverage preference."

"And I'd like to apologize, as well," said little Twilight, at my side. "Had I not been so completely flipped-out with panic over the possibility of a second Changeling attack on Canterlot, I wouldn't have brought the business end of Elements of Harmony to bear on my wonderful teacher, thus lighting the fuse that led to this whole big… blow-up… thing."

"Apologies are all well and good, Highness, Miss Sparkle," rumbled Chancellor Palimpsest, leaning forward, "but they will not restore the public's faith. Our tea exports have plummeted, overnight. There is talk that the crop of Equestrian Domestic must perforce be terrible this year, if it engenders in the Princess such a violent negative reaction."

"There are even mutterings that the crop itself might be cursed, or hexed," added Lady Goldenrod. "This is a financial disaster, Highness, the ruination of many lives."

"Sociologically-speaking," added Poetry Slam, my distressingly hip Minister of Culture, adjusting his tiny smoked spectacles, "this also puts us on the precipice of an extremely un-groovy downward swing in teahouse attendance, leading to widespread societal angst as we attempt to reconcile and rebuild our cultural identity in light of these new standards of obligatory 'third-place' interaction." He sat back. "We're like ships without rudders, Mommy-o."

"Yes," I said, my head high. "And I bear it all on my own back. Except Poetry Slam's thing. Which I don't understand at all."

"And she totally doesn't have to do that," cut in Twilight, "because it's not her fault!"

I glanced down at Twilight as she stepped up to the podium. "Okay, Cabinet-people!" she said. "I don't want to alarm you overmuch, but I can sum up the problem we're facing here with one single word."

She leaned over the podium, resting her hooves heavily on its edges. "Discord," she said.

The Cabinet erupted in gasps. Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO. I moved smoothly to interpose myself between Twilight and her podium. "What I think my Faithful Student means—" I began.

"Discord has returned?" shouted the always high-strung Cardinal Cardinal. "And he can make ponies not enjoy tea?"

"No, he's still stone; but yes, he can!" said Twilight, pointing, who was like unto a rock before the podium and would not be moved. "Or at least his lingering corruption-spells can! I figured it all out last night! No matter how much I thought about what the Princess said to me yesterday, there was a part of me that was utterly convinced that she just couldn't not like tea, and do you know what I realized? That part of me was absolutely right!" Twilight smiled, serenely. "You see, Chancellors, when Discord attempted to destroy Harmony by controlling the minds of my friends and me and making us act contrary to our fundamental natures, we all did some pretty crazy things! My friend Applejack started lying, Pinkie Pie started grouching, Rarity got greedy, Fluttershy got mean, and Rainbow Dash just up and deserted everypony! And it made me lose faith in friendship! Mares and gentlecolts, Discord made us do things that none of us would ever, ever do in real life, except Applejack sometimes. And that's when it hit me."

Twilight turned towards me, her eyes bright and trusting, the very picture of the little filly I had accepted as my personal protégé all those years ago. "Princess Celestia would never not enjoy tea in real life! It's just too important to her, to us! And that means… Discord got to her, too! Clearly, a non-tea-drinking Celestia is diametrically opposed to the real Celestia we all know and love." Twilight grinned at me and snuggled up against my side.

"Wait," said Chancellor Palimpsest, his eyes narrow. "Are you saying that our Princess Celestia is corrupted by Discord's influence? As we speak?"

"Yep!" said Twilight.

"So what can we do to bring the Main Queen home to us, little sister?" asked Poetry Slam.

"It's simple!" cried Twilight. "We do the same thing I did to all my corrupted friends! I cast a memory spell on the Princess, and it'll make her relive every single beautiful tea experience she's ever had. That way, all her enjoyment of tea will come surging back to her, and she'll be the cultured, tea-drinking Sun Princess we all know and love again!"

My left eyelid twitched.

"Every… single… tea… experience?" I asked, quietly.

"Uh huh!" said Twilight, nodding brightly. "Thousands and thousands of years of happy little tea memories. It'll be great!"

Trembling slightly, I looked down at the shining face of my Faithful Student, then up at my High Cabinet; each one, to a pony, was perched on the edge of her or his cushion, watching me, waiting to hear what I would say next.

They all wanted it to be a curse I labored under. The world wanted it that way. An entire quarter of the economy and a non-insignificant slice of our diplomatic relationships hinged, improbably, on my being the Princess that everypony publicly and quite incorrectly knew me to be, down to the least and most insignificant detail.

I am not the master of my people; like any good and righteous politician in the annals of history, I am their servant. And never has this been made more clear than in the words I uttered next.

"Twilight Sparkle," I said, "is absolutely correct."

* * *

And then it was the next day, and I stood tall and unbowed on the Coronation Balcony before a great and cheering crowd of my pony subjects. To my right was my Faithful Student, the Tourmaline Diadem seated proudly on her forehead. To my left, a positively incandescent Mrs. Cozy, whose happy little world had been rebuilt in toto from the ashes it had fallen to.

I stepped forward, looking down at the milling throng. Certainly, all my tea-related would-be petitioners from yesterday would be in attendance, their worries now washed away by the surprise revelation that the Sun Princess had been suffering some dark sorcery this whole time, that she hadn't actually declared her apostasy from their all-important beverage. The mood from the crowd was the sort of deep, ocean-like contentment that can only come from a vast multitude of ponies feeling the relief of slipping back into the status quo. Because, more than anything in this world – more than apples, more than jewels, more than muffins – what a pony wants most out of life is normalcy.

I was about to give them what they wanted.

With great decorum and ceremony, Mrs. Cozy levitated a small, portable tea service over to where I stood, facing the masses, my beautiful antique teacup telekinetically suspended for everypony to see. Mrs. Cozy poured, then, filling the cup. I noted with bemusement that she had chosen Twilight's fresh Darjeeling for the ceremony. It was fitting.

I stared down into the pale, amber-colored liquid. Courtesy of Twilight Sparkle, I had spent the entirety of last night reliving thousands and thousands of hateful years of tea, and though it nearly broke me, I had endured. This one simple real-world task was all that remained. Surely I could do this.

I raised the cup to my lips, and the horrid liquid entered my mouth.

I had once, in my youth, reduced a small mountain to pea gravel with only my hooves to aid me. The effort I had expended there was nothing compared to that which I now spent in attempting to keep my abdominal muscles completely still. One small retch could bring the whole world crashing down again.

Blessedly, the nausea passed, and I flashed the crowd a perfect smile, holding my teacup aloft.

"Delicious!" I declared. And they erupted in cheers.

"It's good to have you back, Princess," said Twilight, looking up at me as the noise washed over us like a wave.

"It's good to be back," I agreed.

Author's Note:

Read, if you like, a brief coda to this piece: "A Short Story by Twilight Sparkle." Other things to check out: the cover image to the Russian-language anthology version of this story (both sweemy and boss), and the amazingly faithful comic adaptation, which begins here.

Comments ( 819 )
Rhulain #1 · May 31st, 2012 · · 3 ·

...I was waiting for Celestia to slap Twilight. my personal fantasy about after the end was this

C: Twilight, please come join me in this soundproof room.:trollestia:
T: Okay Princess:twilightsmile:
-inside the room-
C:Now Twilight, I'm going to beat you to within an inch of your life, heal you, and you will tell nopony.
C: you brought this on yourself. I don't like Tea.:trollestia:
-Scene redacted-
C:now what have you learned?:trollestia:
T:y-you..d-don't..l-like T-t-t-tea....

Dear lord... poor Celestia... :rainbowlaugh:

Ha ha, oh wow. I was hoping for a sequel. Didn't have quite as much impact as using the Orbital Friendship Cannon (repeatedly), but still funny.

:pinkiehappy: Protip for Celestia: Dissolve enough sugar in it while it's warm to give a minotaur diabetus. Then drink it cold.

Sweet Iced Tea, the only way to survive the stuff.


The more I read this, the more I enjoy Twilight as the well-meaning zealot. It just fits her all too perfectly. Now -- is this story truly complete, or do you plan on adding more sections?

This is honestly, truly, a done deal. I reserve the right to pull more individual stories into this timeline (in the "Heretical Fictions" -> "Beloved" style) but I doubt we'll even see that. Thanks for your kind words!

...And then she dismissed herself in a reagal manner to her private 'facilities', where she proceeded to VOMIT UNCONTROLABLY UNTIL PASSING OUT.

But seriously, i feel more sorry for celestia here than anything else.
Personally, i wouldnt give in! I dont care HOW everyone would deal with it, but if i hated something THIS badly, i absolutely would not continue.
No exceptions. :ajbemused:

That is a sad ending for Celestia destined to forever drink tea that she hates. Hahaha Crazy Twilight forcing her to like tea no matter what. I would have liked to see her get knocked out by the princess but this was funny enough.:rainbowlaugh:

I like to think that Twilight only cast that memory spell to torment Celestia. As a sort of punishment for lying to her.
Knowing full well how much Celestia would hate it.

Can't believe that she hates all tea, but I can understand the hatred of tea. I like some teas, but it rarely makes me noxious. Coffee is what kills me. Hope Celestia will get a break, if not in this century, then in the next.

i think twilight did the memory spell to torment celestia but help the populace
thats what i would do anyways

674074 Similar here. I cannot STAND iced tea in any form or black coffee. Though dissolve enough sugar in either and I'll drink them...Though that amount usually is enough for you to mimic Twilight's ability to hear colors and smell the number seven.

673962 This. Oh Celesta, very much this. I was kinda expecting/hoping Celestia would finally just say, "You know what? No. I hate hate tea. All you ponies out there trying to make me love tea, please come to the throne room. You too Twilight. Very good. Now say "Flash incineration is fun!""

Twilight either was completly oblivious or had a well thought out plan. Oblivious = she truly believed what she said, but well thought out plan = a way for Celestia to remove the taint of the words she had said. She would be allowed to continue ruling with no anger from the populace. Still feel sorry for Celestia though.

674008 "The more I read this, the more I enjoy Twilight as the well-meaning zealot."

No, not a zealot; a tealot! :twilightblush:


That should've been the real ending, ha!

:trollestia: - A smack to the head, my faithful student?

"I am not the master of my people; like any good and righteous politician the annals of history, I am their servant."

This is so true. Being a leader for thousands of years must suck bawls.

Celestia should've just let luna take over while she moved to the moon :scootangel:

Poor Celestia just can't catch a break.:fluttercry:

This wonderful zany story ends in mirthful torturous funny tragedy! It ain't easy being the princess!:trollestia:

And I loved the little barb that even un-Discorded Applejack lies sometimes.:ajsmug:

673962 I don't normally dislike Twilight, but for this story, yes. Have Celestia scar her for life. No sarcasm. Just have it happen, because she can't get it through her head that Celestia hates tea. In fact, that's it. I accept this as the real epilogue to this fanfiction. Completely, utterly, entirely, accept this as what happens as the end of the fic.

That was...Different. I read this before going to sleep, so if there was an important message in there, I didn't get it.
Still! A well done fic, and when my most recent evil plan comes to pass I hope to have similar success.
(Note) That evil plan is writing a one-shot whilst sleep-deprived, which I came up with *Pausefordramaticeffect* Whilst slightly sleep deprived.

Without enough sugar to kill the entire pony and human populations instantly with diabetes thrice over (including Pinkie Pie) in a single teaspoon, it's just leaf juice.
Without the fridgidity the ice provides... HOT leaf juice.

I commend thee Celestia, 1000 years of nothing but bitter, warm tea and sleep in the span of 3 seconds? You are the only one in the Greater Omniverse that can say they didn't snap from the mere THREAT of such a fate.

with a dash of honey!

screw tea, just drink ice tea, that stuff is godly!

I cannot comprhend this level of suffering.

This, THIS, a thousand times THIS

Also, when Twilight said "it'll make her relive every single beautiful tea experience she's ever had." I expected that nothing would happen, because the tea experiences weren't beautiful.

See "Beloved", for a brief on-screen cameo of one of the Qilin.

Fixed, thanks for catching.

Huzzah! The tea-related silliness has been doubled!

Whenever someone writes Twilight as a caffeine addict, I can't help but laugh because it just fits her so well. And your depiction of her here is no exception.

Love what you have made here. Absolutely love it. Love how you cram so much detail into this. Huge societal implications, compromising of cultural identities and national economy... All because of, well, tea! :pinkiehappy: That was just... amazing :rainbowderp: This, my good sir, goes into my favorites :moustache:

Liked the story!

I don't like tea or coffee... without sugar. With a few tea spoons of sugar they're good but without, they just taste bitter and disgusting and... dafuq? there's a tea Ad right below the comment box!

As much as I like twilight, she probably needed to at least be told.

Man, I feel for you celestia. Thousands and thousands of tea experiences relived overnight?

This is how I felt...

I was expecting Celestia to banish all of Equestria to the moon. Or banish herself. Wouldn't matter much as long as she didn't have to drink tea anymore.:pinkiesick:

Oh my dear Celestia :applejackconfused:

I'm going to go, right now, and make a nice cup of COFFEE. :ajbemused:


Oh my god. I loved this.
Princess Celestia is now best pony.

This must be made into an episode. It HAS to! Send this to Studio B NOW! :rainbowlaugh:

Celestia finally breaks down, and the Nightmare invades her... with her blessing.

As Nightmare Sun, she can finally become the all-powerful tyrant she needed to be to rid Equestria of tea... FOORRREEEVEERRRR!! :trollestia:

674591 *sneaks up behind you, stabs you with a syringe, and injects pure oolong into your carotid artery!* Now you'll be one of us!

You fall over dead from an embolism.

*Alondro blinks* Huh, so medical science was right after all. Go figure.

674151 And here we have a perfect reason for Celestia to go full-on despot. :trollestia:

I do love your telling names. And "distressingly hip Minister of Culture"? Quite funny!

Also, on a serious note, the ramifications of Celestia's royal outburst are quite believable. The ponies of Equestria love their princess to a fault- and it's not easy to just ignore thousands of years of (supposed) evidence.

That's a horrible idea. Celestia would no longer deserve her station if she did anything like that; in that case, they should get the Elements of Harmony and zap
the hay out of her. And it would very likely work on the first shot.

674151 And here we have a perfect reason for Celestia to go full-on despot. :trollestia:

Speaking of tea, i just noticed that the banner ad at the bottom of the page is for The Republic of Tea.

Good lord, how topically appropriate!

*renames Equestria the Republic of tea to troll Celestia*


Lol. Twilight, why u so retarded!:rainbowhuh::rainbowhuh::rainbowhuh: WTF is wrong with u pony? Get it through your fat purple head. C.e.l.e.s.t.i.a. D.o.e.s.n.t. L.i.k.e. T.E.A.!!!!! I'm surprised you didn't get the Element of Idiocy.

Holy crap I made this in one hour.

TV Tropes Page

Big words.... what mean?

*finished reading* NO,NO! She needs to tell them NOW! No...hate this ending...but don't worry, I don't hate the fic . I loved it, that's why I liked it. Hopin' for a sequel!:trollestia:674353 YES! *pauses to drink sweetened ice tea with lemon* (sluuuurp....sluuuurp...) YES!

I say, good sir, I am most thoroughly offended by this disrespectful representation of my homeland's signature beverage. I shall stare at you from afar in an angry fashion from my private yacht anchored in the Thames, where I will sip my tea with a few other fine gentlemen posing as entrepreneurs, as we discuss how best to hide our plans for world conquest from the prying eyes of MI6.

Nevertheless, jolly good show old chap, and a fine read. I did laugh most heartily.

God save the Queen.



I very much agree with this. I mostly felt sorry for Celestia throughout. Though I admit that I honestly can't see her putting up with it for so long just to seem "unwaverin". When the current generation of ponies have all died, I'd hope she finds some way to politely rebuke the whole tea love from the picture, hah. But royally giving Twilight a private whatfor would be good too, after that, she thoroughly deserve it!


*Gets cappuccino tablets from pocket and swallows* YOU SHALL NEVER CONVERT MEEEEEEEE!!!!! *runs through a wall and towards the sunset*

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