On the Road

by Smakleapp

An Appropriately Angry Letter

I have never felt this alone, cold, and betrayed before. As I write this letter, I sit back and reflect on my life, searching for answers to justify why these events have transpired against me. I have come to a conclusion: there is no reason. I, in my whole life, have served the Royal Family with the utmost dignity, precision, and grace. I thought my actions would help elevate my quality of life, but unfortunately, yesterdays events have proven otherwise.

So I have written this letter in order to inform you how to prevent these events from happening to any pony else...but mostly me.

For my mozzarella sticks were cold at TGIT. Now usually, a Prince such as myself would never be seen at a lowly restaurant like Thursdays. However, I had a hankering for mozzarella sticks, and all the fancy restaurants had too much breading. I also decided to grace your waiters with my presence, as they would obviously swoon over my looks.

It took 5 minutes to seat me. 5 minutes. An insult, especially when the restaurant was almost full. I'm your Prince! I looked past this imprudent action and ordered a martini and a big pile of mozzarella sticks. The waitress greeted me as she would great a normal pony, but due to my hunger, I let it slide.

When my martini came, it was perfect. You, being the owner of this restaurant, should feel proud. However, this was the last pleasurable feeling your restaurant gave me.

My mozzarella sticks came in 20 minutes after my drink had, causing me to ask for 5 refills. When the appetizers came, they looked sloppy. I could still see the cheese! I was almost convinced to throw it on the floor and tell the waitress to lick it up. However, my hunger still played a factor in my actions. As a result, I tried the sticks. As I'm sure I already told you...they were cold. Frigid.

I yelled insanities at the waitress for her benevolence. She never, and I mean never should have gifted me those fries. As a servant of the court, I deserve to be treated with the utmost respect and resolve. She, however, deserved to be whipped down the streets of Canterlot, for all to see.

As I was making arrangements, the waitress cried, begging for her life. Naturally, I wasn’t going to do such a thing. It would hurt my public outlook, and besides, Auntie would never improve. The host then had the nerve to ask me to leave. I responded by telling him I had no inclination to hurt her, but he said my yelling and shouting was upsetting the guests.

To say I felt persecuted is an understatement. The only reason I accepted this offer was the offer to pay for my food. Besides, I knew a much better plan of attack was to run away and then secretly ask you to fire both the waitress and the host. And, while we're on the topic of demands, to fire the chef or chefs who cooked my meal. However, please give the one who made the drink a raise.

I expect you to put my requests into swift action. There is no pressure to follow through with my requests, but should I walk by your establishment and see both that waitress and host through the window, well…

From your Loving, Caring, and Powerful Prince, Not to Mention Handsome, Dashing, Charming, and The Most Promising Bachelor in Canterlot, and Equestria, and The World,

Prince Blueblood

Author's Note:

A short chapter to set up future events