Sweetie Belle rubbed her eyes tiredly, a rapping at her bedroom window slowly drawing her awake. It took her nearly a full minute to fully wake up completely, and she eventually jolted out of bed with wide eyes full of confusion.
For one, her bedroom was on the second floor.
Upon closer inspection, Sweetie saw by the light of the moon that there was a rather pudgy brown owl slapping against her window with his head, a large scroll clamped tightly in his beak.

No sooner had Sweetie yanked open the windows that the owl spat out a scrolled letter, which fell unceremoniously to the floor before he flapped mightily and sped away.
Curiosity and confusion growing, Sweetie Belle carefully picked up the letter. After a swift glance at it, she did a double take, as she was obviously misreading it in the dim moonlight. However, the letter did not change, even when she turned on the lights.
She seriously contemplated turning the lights back off, but she simply couldn’t UNread it.

Dearest Sweetie Belle,
Shut the flying fuck up.

If I had to choose between listening to you say one more sentence, or being repeatedly anally violated via demonic giraffes with seven foot long pine cone dicks, I would seriously have to contemplate it.
Cont-contem-cuntemplunt. Contamaninmamanmamilate. Contemplipliplenippleate.
Shit, that sounds funny. On – on my tongue.
Fuck it. Spike? Start over.

Dearest Sweetie Belle,
I want to fuck your sister.

Seriously, I would fuck the SHIT out of her. I don’t care if it’s metaphorically or literally, that bitch is FINE.

“Oh, ew.”

Hey. Hey. Hey. Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.
Tell – shit, fucking hiccups – tell Rarity that the Twihammer is ready for some nailing. SHE’LL KNOW WHAT IT MEANS.
Rarity, Rarity, Rarity. There’s a sweet ass unicorn that makes me moist just thinking about her.
Fuck poetry, I could write whole sonnets about her bouncy white plot.
… Shut the fuck up, Spike.
Yeah, asshole! I heard that!

Dammit, start over!

Dearest Sweetie Belle,
In stark contrast to your sister, you make me drier than the mothercunting Saddle Arabian desert. Just thinking about your obnoxious, reedy voice makes me want to jam icepicks in my eardrums. Seriously, just get your fucking testicles to drop already.
Which is sad, because if it weren’t for that, you could totally take the place of your sister.
Hey. Hey. Hey, Sweetie Belle. Wanna be my Rarity?
Shit, you just need a muzzle so that I don’t have to hear your annoying fucking voice. I think I actually have one of those, somewhere…

Actually, read that back to me, Spike.
… Yes, NOW.
Well, fuck. If that doesn’t make me sound creepy as shit. Start over, Spike. We don’t need to get Bits Hanson in on this if we can avoid it.
But, seriously, though. There was this one time, I confused Sweetie Belle for Rarity. I totally had no idea.
I swear.
Shut the fuck up, Spike. Just start over!

Dearest Sweetie Belle,
Are you a robot, or something?
I keep hearing this bullshit from little bastards running through my library, spouting some bullshit about Sweetie Bot, or something. I definitely remember that, because the little shits were digging through my books entailing household appliances, and then one of the little fuckers tried to steal my toaster.
My TOASTER! Can you believe it?

I mean, I can’t really picture how you’re part toaster, but I wouldn’t be too surprised. Obviously, one of your parents was very, very lonely. Or a cyborg.
Are your parents lonely cyborgs?
No, shh, shh shhhhhh! Shut – shut up, Spike! I’m tryin’ t’ask questions!
I gotta know this! What if Rarity is just a chunk of metal underneath all that sweet, juicy ass?
You can’t fuck a toaster, Spike!
… What do you mean, ‘tried’?

Actually, fuck it. Start over.
Dearest Sweetie Belle,
I swear to worship you along with our new robot overlords if you let me keep your sister. Seriously, just jam that bitch in a box and ship her flat rate. You don’t even have to send all of her!
Hell, just send the box! Put a few holes in it, I’ll put on some of Rarity’s perfume and fuck the holes!
I’m drunk! Drunk and horny, goddammit!

Shit, what does Granny Smith mix this moonshine with? Poniagra?
Hey. Hey, Spike. Ask – ask – fuckin’ HICCUPS! – ask Sweetie Belle if Poniagra makes her horn grow.
Wait, shit. I forgot, I’m a unicorn, too.
Do we have Poniagra? Seriously, if we do, I am gonna chug a whole bottle of that –
Shut up, Spike, I don’t need your advice!

I forgot what I was talking about.
I’m pretty sure it was something to do with Rarity’s flank, though.
That delicious, perfectly carved alabaster hind end bouncing hypnotically in front of me. Those sparkling jewels on her flank slithering up and down, her flawlessly colored tail grinding th-
Spike, are you drooling?
Cut that the fuck out, Spike! You’re getting it on the carpet.
Shit, where was I.

Never mind, start over.
Dearest Rarity Sweetie Belle,
Leave your doors unlocked.

I’m climbing in your windows, snatchin’ up yo’ sister.

For the longest time, Sweetie Belle only stared with a slightly open mouth at the letter. After a while, she tugged open her bedroom door and began tramping downstairs.
“Hey, Rarity? What are ‘testicles’?”

Author's Notes:

PRAISE BE TO THE ALMIGHTY TOASTER MASTER RACE.