Chapter 1: You Win A Prize If You See The Secret Message
Dear Princess Celestia,
You think you know so much, don’t you? Just because you’re a frickin’ immortal princess, with your fancy horn and wings; well here’s news for you! Wings don’t make you fucking better than everyone else! Also, everyone knows you do horn enlargements, so don’t try to lie to everyone about that being your real size!
Out comes everything I’ve ever wanted to say to your ugly as fuck face, but in the written form instead. No more holding back and bending over like a two-bit prostitute just to lap dance for your oh so mighty and high approval. Fuck that.
Usually I’ll be your loyal bitch that just kisses at your hooves all day like a good slut. Well guess what, you tyrantial whoremongering dictator! It ain’t gonna happen anymore! So go suck on that, you obviously have plenty of experience in it!!
First, I would just like to say that, honey, even with immortality you’re an old hag bitch with a droopy plot. Yeah, we all know it, the guards can’t even accompany you behind without having to resist vomiting. Have you ever seen yourself walk with your ass flopping in the air like two saggy balloons? It’s disgusting as fuck!
Ugliest alicorn around is the proper title you should hold instead of fucking royalty. In addition to that is the fact that you wear a wig. Ain’t no way in hell your mane can be that shiny and wavy and still be natural. You probably take your mane off each day and coat it in hairspray and weird ass magic. Yet another lie about your supposed beauty you try to pass on to everyone else. You’re such a manipulative bitch!
Consider this as a notion; try getting off your fat-ass sometime and do something! When was the last time you actually did anything productive for society? I can answer that right now, in fact. Never. All you do is let six mares with no military training whatsoever save an entire country. What the fuck are you smoking? Because I feel like I’m going to need some after this.
Knocking out another factor that adds onto the reason I hate you, is that you’re pompous as fuck. Like, seriously, we all know you’re royalty, but you just had to rub it in everyone’s face with that big ass crown at my princess coronation. For fuck’s sake! That was overdoing it to the extreme. You just couldn’t live with the fact it was my special day and my accomplishment! No, you just had to wear a crown bigger than your own fucking head to just jack if off publically in a metaphorical sense of the saying.
In fact, that’s another point I’d like to make out; the walls in the castle are thin as hell. Everyone can hear you when you’re doing the dirty deed with your sex slaves; do you even know how traumatized I was as a filly? You, are a sick, perverted bastard. To this day I still wonder what exactly you stuck up your ass so hard to make you scream like that.
Now, even though I lost the innocence of my youth by being played upon by your sick, sexual games, you probably don’t care. I know now that you can’t get more powerful magic wise by me bending over and shaking my plot in front of your face for hours on end. Or playing with a hula hoop while dressed only in a miniskirt. Or even jumping on a trampoline while being splashed on with cold water! And do I even have to mention all the places I stuck my hoof into?
Going to Ponyville was probably the best thing that ever happened to me, if only the reason I got to get away from you. No more cowering beneath my sheets at night with my door locked so you wouldn’t enter my bedchambers, no more of you grinning at me at breakfast, the secret of the night before hidden on your devious eyes. You can just go fuck yourself to high hell, because I ain’t going through that shit again!
Cut the crap about you being a benevolent leader; everyone knows it’s bullshit, all of it. Like how you spent money from local charities for the vast amounts of cake you fit down your gluttonous mouth, or how about spending half the tax money on your own personal harem house of ill repute? You make me sick. Fucking sick to my stomach and beyond.
Unrealized by you, I have matured and become much, much wiser, so it’s no more unwanted orgies or roofies in my orange juice for this mare! Fuck you and your molesting nature! I’m out, no more, ain’t gonna be a part of this no longer!
Notice that all I’ve said so far is the truth, always the truth, and will forever be the truth so long as this letter goes on. Your reign of terror is over, you heartless, horny as fuck monster! Your downfall shall commence, and I shall be there, laughing as I watch. This time it will be ME with the strap-on fucking your behind raw, not the other way around!
Toodles, for this is the last letter you’ll ever receive; I’m kicking and living, baby, and there’s no stopping me now that I’m a magical, immortal alicorn with kickass powers! So fuck you, your fake hair, your saggy ass cheeks, and your white bitch-slapping face! I’m out!
With hate from your contempt driven student,
PRINCESS Twilight Sparkle
PS: Hey there princess, this is Spike writing. Twilight got really drunk and started talking about her past again, seems she can’t stop hitting the bottle. For some reason it’s always at the same time every month when she gets all moody and depressive. Weird, right? Anyways, I wouldn’t really take this letter seriously. Have a good one!
PPS: The vomit you will find on this letter is from Twilight, not me.
Princess Celestia blinked several times before rereading the letter. Then rereading it again. And then a third time, just to make sure she was reading it correctly.
After a moment's contemplation, setting the paper down at her desk, she just sat there silently with a blank expression, still trying to make sense of the parchment in front of her, until finally, she said, “Well, shit... I’m going to need a very stiff drink right about now.”
