The thumping on the door woke Applejack first.

She blearily stuck her head out from beneath her pillow, groaning. The sun wasn’t even up yet.
“Whud’zit?” Applejack inquired tiredly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Applebloom wasted no time in shoving the door open, only to reveal that the filly held a small, unrolled letter.

“Darlin’, do you know what time it is?” Applejack groaned, sitting up in bed.
“I, uh…” Applebloom said tentatively, looking back and forth between her sister and the letter. “I… I think somepony sent me this by mistake.”
“Huh? This time o’ night?”
“It-it has your name.” Had Applejack been paying attention, she’d have noticed that her sister seemed to have a rather unpleasant pallor about her. Hooves trembling slightly, Applebloom dropped the letter onto Applejack’s lap and darted out the door.

Confused, she picked up the already opened letter and began to read.
She sincerely wished she hadn’t.

Dearest Applejack,
I fucked your grandmother.

Applejack dropped the letter.

Lighting up a candle and dragging herself down the stairs, she stumbled to the kitchen and washed her face in the sink, making absolutely certain that she was fully awake. Then, sitting down carefully at the kitchen table, Applejack continued to read.

I know, you’ve probably got that stupid fucking look on your face right now. You probably have no idea what I’m talking about, because you look like you’ve never heard of a mirror. I wish I could show you just how stupid you look.
Here, let me help you.
… Shit, she can’t see my face. Don’t write that, Spike.

Yes, we’re still doing this! I don’t CARE if your arms are tired, keep writing!
… NO, not THAT part!

Dearest Applejack,
You filthy fucking heathen.

All the time, I have to put up with your shit. And I do mean that literally, by the way. God, you always stink like manure. Seriously, do you ever even bathe? If you do, try it some more. The last time you walked into the library, I almost fucking gagged.
But right now, it’s… a quarter after one, I’m a little drunk, and I need you. Now.

Spike, I swear to god, if you don’t stop humming that, I’m going to hit you.

Where was I?
Right, right. Fucking your grandmother for free booze.

Hang on. Shit.
Don’t write that, Spike.

Dearest Applejack,
Don’t treat me like I’m stupid. If you’re going to behave condescendingly, have the decency to grow a motherfucking brainstem first.
You know what I’m talking about.

You actually expect me, let alone anypony else in this hick-town, to believe that Applebloom is your ‘sister’?

Bullshit! Like your parents JUST SO HAPPENED to be conveniently out of the picture. I know what you and your fucking beast of a brother have been up to. Been REAL busy sewing Apple seeds, huh?
Don’t lie to me! We all know Applebloom is the ‘slow’ Crusader for a reason!

… Shit, that sounds bad. Don’t write that, Spike.

Dearest Shitface.
Goddammit. Applejack. Yeah, whatever, Spike.

Stop hogging your brother all to yourself.
I have done absolutely everything in my power to wrangle that hunk of pony flesh, and I can’t catch his eye because your fat fucking plot is in the way!

I even tried to go through his GRANDMOTHER to get to him, and he still won’t fucking pay attention!
You think that ‘love potion’ shit was an accident?
Oh-ho-ho, yeah, Spike. I know about that, don’t tell me that fucktard Applebloom doesn’t have a big mouth, and I don’t have… have… big… ears.

Shit, I’m drunk.
Spike? Start over.

YES, again!

Dearest Applebloom.
Jack. Applejack.
Dearest Applejack.

… Jack. Jack. Jack jackity jack. Gotta get back, back to the past, watchout Jack.
Sweet Celestia, I’m so fucking funny right now.
Shut up, Spike.

Dearest Applejack,
Just stop fucking talking.

Seriously, that’s all I want from you (at this point in time.) Just shut the fuck up.
I cannot stand your accent any more than your smell, and you don’t even have the appeal of a sweet, tender flank to balance it out. With those curved, masculine muscles you’ve spent so many years toning. That rosy complexion spreading from flank to flank, I could even block out that god awful drawl when I watch those apples bounce.

Hang on.
Don’t write that either, Spike.
… YES, start over from the beginning! I don’t care, just do it.

Dearest Applejack,
Choke on a watermelon.

Seriously, so long as it’s fucking anything but apples. It’s always ‘apples, apples, apples’. You’re a fucking nuisance. Not as much as the Pink Menace, I’ll give you that. And your VOICE.
Fucking TARTARUS, your voice! I am not even listening to you right NOW, and it STILL makes me grind my teeth in frustration!
You sound like the horrid inbred culmination of Pony Fife and Larry the Cable Pony!

And on top of that, you and Rainbow Dash are always at each other’s throats. As in, every single goddamned day. All day.
Every. Day.

Just fuck and get it over with already. We both know you’ve got lots of experience with it, so it should be no problem for you.
Besides, I swear, sometimes you and Rainbow ‘Let’s get smashed every Tuesday’ Dash sound exactly the fucking same. It’s creepy.
In hindsight, she could secretly be a changeling. You should kill her.

Shut the hell up, Spike.
Seriously, go slaughter that bitch. Get her out of my mane for a few minutes. And while you’re doing that, I’ll go rut your hunk of a brother for you. Right there on the kitchen table, too. Your grandmother and I already put it to good use, though. I’m surprised the perverted bitch didn’t have a heart attack, there and then. I damned near gave her one, though.

-Note From Spike-

Applejack, I am so, so sorry about this. You would not believe how much of a mean drunk Twilight is. She’s really gone off the deep end, and I think she wants more letters sent. Seriously, get somepony over here and get her some coffee and a cold shower, or… something.
Also, I’m sorry to hear about your grandmother. You have my deepest condolences.

Applejack ever-so-slowly began inching away from the kitchen table.