Twilight Sparkle and her minion watched in awe as Ponyville shook under the force of another shockwave. Plumes of smoke rose into the air as a series of explosions detonated within the city limits.

"Well," Twilight said, taking her sunglasses off. "It seems that we've found what we're looking for."

"A walking apocalypse?"

"An apocalypse? That's the name you give to this modern marvel of destructive beauty?" She sneered at her assistant. "No, Spike. This is no mere apocalypse. Such a word doesn't fit the artistic brilliance of this fine man's craft. Look at the way he turns even eating lunch into a fantastic menagerie of detonations! Spike, this is art."

"If you say so," the young drake muttered, hopping up from the lawn chair he'd been sitting in. "Do you want me to make another batch of popcorn?"

And so the two of them sat, enjoying one another's company as they watched the world they'd once loved burn. It was...pleasant.

A tightly wrapped envelope landed on the ever growing stack of friendship reports that now crowded Princess Celestia's grave. If she were still alive, she'd probably be a little annoyed by now. As it was, she could only sit and suffer in silence as her student's drunken spiels flooded her resting place. Oh the things she did for love.

She'd have read them if she were still alive. Her student meant the world to her, even if she didn't always seem to return the sentiment. Celestia wanted nothing but the best for the errant filly who still seemed to think of herself as all grown up. Hell, she'd given her wings! What an ungrateful whelp.

I've got to read that, the body thought to herself. It's been driving me crazy.

For weeks, Celestia had tried to ignore the letters. Unfortunately, the afterlife was a cruel bitch that decided it would be funny to leave the resident's soul forever bound to the now cold corpse. Thanks, M.A. Larson.

Of course, whatever she would've read would be a disappointment great adventure. There were assuredly a dozen masterpieces sitting in that pile, all waiting for the princess to crack them open and gaze them over. These 'masterpieces' would give her such heartwarming messages about how her apprentice was doing, like:

Dear Princess Celestia,

I'm not going to revive you. Stop pestering me.

Sincerely,

Twilight Spurkel.

P.S. I'm drunk.

Or a great magnum opus like this:

Dear Princess Fuckwit,

I want to bang. Now. Pls text me.

With lust,

Twilight. XOXOXOXOXO

There were even a few cases where Twilight would talk about her greatest secrets, like that time she stole a book from a library or kicked a puppy for looking at her funny. Whatever the letter, Celestia still found it somehow endearing. She used to give her own loving responses in a timely manner, with such caring messages as:

Dear Twilight Sparkle,

I'd be happy to show you the world. My shimmering bedchambers are awaiting your presence.

With impatient love,

Princess Celestia.

It was only a matter of time before the young alicorn took matters into her own hooves and decided to bring Celestia back. What wasn't to love about the big, cake-padded flank of a goddess like her? She was irresistible and she knew it. All it would take was a little nudge...

Celestia managed to draw in enough ambient magic to cast a single, solitary spell. The trademark golden flash of her magic was a bit muted by her current state, but was sufficient to reach her bedchambers, unlock the seals on her arcane safe, pull out a certain leather bound book, and ship it off to Ponyville with a quick teleportation.

Soon.