To Anypony Who Will Listen (Especially Twilight, Because Trixie Knows You're Probably the Only One Who Cares Enough to Read This),
The Great and Powerful Trixie has hit rock bottom.
I am writing this letter from a jail cell. A disgusting, cold, unsanitary jail cell, where I have been falsely imprisoned alongside none other than Princess Celestia herself, who is currently sitting in the corner mumbling about "the slap of hooves" and staring into the distance like a war veteran who has seen too much. I am afraid to approach her. She may be broken beyond repair.
But how, you ask, did I, the innocent and beloved Trixie, end up in this Tartarus-forsaken place? It is a miscarriage of justice, Twilight! A travesty!
After sending my last letter, I continued hiding behind the sunglasses display, doing nothing wrong, I might add. But when the robbery ended, and the lazy, donut-stuffed police officers finally arrived, they took one look at me—cowering on the floor, drenched in my own sweat, clutching a single pair of knockoff aviators—and immediately assumed I was an accomplice!
I tried to explain. I told them, "Trixie is a victim! Trixie does not even own a ski mask! Trixie is far too fabulous for a life of crime!" But did they listen? NO! They threw me onto the grimy floor, slapped magic-nullifying cuffs on my hooves, and shoved me into the back of a police wagon like some kind of common hooligan!
And now? Now I am sharing a cell with CELESTIA.
That's right. The actual, literal Princess Celestia. The alicorn of the sun. The ruler of Equestria. Also apparently a known terrorist now? When I arrived, I thought the guards were joking. But no. She is here.
The moment I was thrown into the cell, I turned and saw her—huddled against the wall, wrapped in a tattered hayburger wrapper like a makeshift cloak, sunglasses perched crookedly on her muzzle. The fire in her eyes is gone. All that remains is regret.
When I asked why she was here, she let out a long, hollow laugh and simply whispered, "Six Flags is no more."
I don't know how to process this information. The Princess of Equestria is in jail with me.
Twilight, Luna, somepony, please—get us out of here. I don't deserve this! And Celestia—well, Celestia might deserve this, honestly, but still! I refuse to rot in this place! The guards keep giving me weird looks, and I am pretty sure one of them recognized me from my unpaid parking tickets. This could get worse. Much worse.
Save me, Twilight Sparkle. You're my only hope.
The Wrongfully Incarcerated,
Trixie Lulamoon