Prince Blueblood considered himself a rather dashing unicorn.
He gazed up at the magnificently sculpted (of course it was, it was a model of himself) hedge, the moonlight pouring over it dazzlingly. He allowed himself a little smile, fondly looking over the growing artwork.

At least, until he noticed that his leafy horn was off center.
Snarling in disgust, he turned away from it to go hunt down the caretaker of his aunt’s garden. Surely the stubborn old mule was responsible for such a crime. It vaguely occurred to Blueblood that he probably should have been sleeping, but he just wasn’t able to catch a single wink without his herbal remedies and warm milk first.

He was in mid-stomp through the garden when he was abruptly halted by a rather violently whizzing blur of green light, which soared through the night sky and slapped him directly in the face.
Spluttering furiously at whomever had dared to throw the scroll at royalty such as himself, he glared around; however, the fading green flame from the scroll lead him to guess that it was of the same fashion of letter that Celestia received.
Odd.

Curious, he magically levitated the thing and quickly peeked at it, wondering if he had accidentally just intercepted his aunt’s mail. Much to his surprise, it was not intercepted at all; the letter was obviously written directly to him.
It read as follows.

Dearest Prince Narcissistic Cunt Waffle,
I hate you, you putrid nuck fugget. I am going to violate your corpse with a pineapple.

Blueblood stopped reading for an entire two minutes after that.

Shit, don’t write that, Spike.
Start over.

Yo!
What’s up, Blue Balls?

Have I ever mentioned that I fucking hate your guts?
Seriously, you revolting, pasty stallion – bitch. I’m surprised you even manage to walk yourself anywhere for fear of damaging your precious hooficured self. Then again, you’re so fucking stupid that I wouldn’t be surprised if walking were considered a dangerous activity for you, you dumb cock sucking tit chewing hag faced ball licking ass monkey –
Dammit. Spike, start from scratch. Yeah, I’ve gotta take a minute, I’m kind of pissed.

Dearest…
Oh, fuck. Are we, like, cousins now, or something? Does me turning alicorn make me related to fat ass, or what? Am I just some extra princess, or some such shit? Seriously, I get the feeling that Celestia made up that whole ‘You’re a princess, Harry Twilight’ just so that the bitch could get me out of her mane for a few minutes.
It also could have been from the fact that the bitch told me that she wanted me out of her mane for a few minutes.
Seriously, can you believe the fucking nerve of some ponies? No goddamned respect, no respect at all.

Shit, I have got the hiccups. It’s so hard to SAY shit now.
… What the hell was I talking about?
Oh, right. Thanks, Spike.
FUCK, no, don’t write that, dumbass! Start over!

Dearest auto fellatio enthusiast,
I hope you choke to death on your own dick, you revolting, putrid fucking semen gobbler. I cannot possibly imagine how anypony could love themselves more than you do, and it disgusts me, along with everypony else that has to put up with your bullshit on a day to day basis.
I’ll bet that you love YOU so much that you fuck yourself in the ass!
Fucking hell, except for that one time you asked ME to get nasty.
…
Why are you staring at me like that, Spike?

Oh, yeah. Sounds like a great time.
Why the hell not. I’ll fuck you.
Bend over, Blue Balls. I’ll fuck you, all right.
I’ll fuck you right up the poop chute with a motherfucking pineapple wrapped in rusty barbed wire.

Have I ever mentioned - MOTHER CUNTING HICCUPS! – have I ever mentioned that the way you walk- well, you can tell by the way I use my walk, doo loo doo lee doo loo doo.
STAYIN’ ALIVE, STAYIN’ ALIVE!

-Note From Spike-
You know, I probably would have attached some kind of apologetic note on to the end of this, telling you about how Twilight is drunk off her ass (again) right now, and that you aren’t the only one suffering her booze-y wrath. Hell, she even tried to talk me into worshiping a toaster as a god, she is seriously that wasted.
You know, the mare who raised me, the one I’ve known literally my entire goddamned life. The mare who acted as my mom / sister / caretaker / thing, and is once again in the process of completely losing her shit.
I’d go on, but you don’t fucking DESERVE to know, because I only just now discovered that you’ve been trying to put it in Twilight, you spooge colored fucktarded piece of shit.

If you lay a single hoof on Twilight again, I’ll make sure you choke to death on dragon tackle.
And then they’ll never find the body.

Prince Blueblood would have read further on, but he found that he no longer needed any warm milk to keep him from the sweet embrace of unconsciousness.

Author's Notes:

Because it's about time Blue Balls got a 'friendship' letter.