I threw open Vinyl Scratch's bedroom door and stormed across the filthy shag carpeting toward the rear of her turntable, pinning my ears back to shield myself from the horrid sounds belching forth from the machine. Vinyl gaped at me and mouthed words I couldn't hear. I didn't care to try and read her lips.
I reached the other side of the room, lowered my head to the outlet and gripped the plug in my teeth. I may have been a little too hard; shreds of plastic shore off into my mouth, but I didn't care about that, either.
I ripped the plug from the wall and let it drop to the ground with a muffled plastic thunk. I took a moment to relish the splendid silence, then turned to the door and made to leave, but Vinyl clenched her teeth and stepped into my path, even pushing up her glasses to show the tiny pupils of those hateful crimson eyes of hers. "Octy, what the hay do you think you're doing?! You're gonna scratch the records!"
I scowled, and pushed past her. "It's your own fault, Vinyl. If you had turned them down when I asked, it wouldn't have come to this."
I made it a few steps. Vinyl's hoof came from my right and smashed me in the jaw, sending me stumbling a few steps. I glanced back a second later, when the shock and pain had subsided, snarled and lunged at her.
I suppose I should have started at the beginning, but unplugging the thing was the fun part.
I'd gotten home maybe half an hour before that. It wasn't the best day, but certainly not the worst. Vinyl had had her music turned up that same way the entire week, and I hadn't been able to get myself in proper order before our show earlier that night. It didn't help that a certain worthless drunkard of a so-called critic had shown up and asked why I was even in the performance, not even bothering to get the name of my instrument right.
But, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. I did have a date lined up for later, which was nice. Vinyl's music still blared loud enough to shake the rafters, but I told myself I could deal with it. Even if it was closer to the sound of Celestia doing rather indelicate things to a copy machine than to actual music.
I stepped around the empty fast food containers and sat down on the sofa. It took a moment of fidgeting to get comfortable. I picked up the book of Sherlock Hooves short stories I'd checked out from the library, and tried to read.
The problem being, Vinyl's music made it hard enough to think, let alone try to decipher the now-arcane symbols on the page. After my third pass over the first sentence, I sighed and turned to her bedroom door. "Vinyl, would you please turn down that music? I'm trying to read."
Her scratchy voice came back a moment later, straining to outdo her turntable. "What? I can't hear you, Octy! Music's too loud!"
I sighed, and banged my head on the coffee table a few times. It didn't help with the racket in the apartment, but it did make me feel a little better. I grated my teeth and resumed to trying to read. I could have tried to ask again, but in the mood she'd been in this past week, there was no reasoning with the mare.
After I'd struggled through the entire first paragraph a dozen times and still somehow managed not to understand a word of it, I tried shouting. "Vinyl, please turn down that music!"
The volume turned up, and she stayed quiet. I grated my teeth and got to my hooves.
It wasn't even so much the quality of the music or its obnoxious volume that bothered me as the sheer entitlement. She did this all day, every day, dawn until dusk from the moment she got home until the one she left. Sometimes she didn't even turn it off then. Eventually, she'd stumble back into the apartment after some party, drunk well beyond all decency, and not a second would pass after she returned to her room before that wretched sound would start again.
I stomped over to the door and slammed my hoof against it several times. "Vinyl, I'm trying to read and I'm not in the mood for your games! For the love of Celestia, turn that noise down!"
No answer. It was too much. I threw open the door and stormed inside, and so things began.
I landed on top of Vinyl and sent her to the floor. I made to slap her, but she planted her hooves on my barrel and sent me flying across the room. I hit the wall and slid down it, grating my pain from the pain, and winced as I got to my hooves. She was far stronger than I'd expected for a unicorn, but still nothing I couldn't handle. Or that I was likely to back down from at this point.
She lifted a dusty record from an equally unused album cases by magic and sent the disc flying for my head. I jilted left, and threw myself at her again. This time, she stayed down, and I landed a solid smack across her face.
She gripped me by the shoulders, and we rolled across the shag carpet toward the door. I was too filled with rage to even care about the sickening amount of dirt on the thing. We rolled out into the living room, and she bit me halfway across. I shrieked and pulled away. It hadn't broken the skin, but there is nothing fun about being bitten, permanent damage or not.
Before I could recover, she scraped the carpet with her hoof and charged at me. I hesitated for an instant, then reached for one of the fast food containers scattered around the floor, picked it up and flung it into her path, holding my breath that my oral hygiene sacrifice was not in vain.
One white hoof landed on the thing, and her eyes lit up with shock as it came out from under her. She sailed across the room next to me and hit up against the wall, and I took my chance. I turned, raised both hooves and bucked her in the side. She whimpered quietly at the impact.
I turned and ambled toward my bedroom door, presuming the fight was over and myself the victor. Vinyl didn't seem to share my opinion, nor did she stay down for long. A second later, I pitched forward and smashed through the front door of the apartment, Vinyl on top of me.
I wasn't sure how she'd managed to recover so fast, but I didn't have time to worry about it. I rolled with her into the hall outside, and tried to worm out from under her, but she slugged me in the face.
I was still fidgeting underneath her when it came to me. I planted my back hooves on her barrel, and grinned at her. She saw what was coming a moment before it came, and I reveled in her terrified expression. I bucked before she could try to stop me, and she flew across the hall, thumping against the wall outside the apartment. She slid to the floor, and this time, she stayed down.
I was sure I'd taken a few bruises, and my mane was a mess, but I smiled in spite of it. I strolled over to her side, and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I win."
She groaned, but said no more.
I made to return to the apartment and clean myself up, but a stallion's voice caught my attention from down the hall. "Um... Octavia?"
I glanced over, and my heart did a strange maneuver I'll call a backflip sink. There Blues stood at the other end of the hall, expression just slightly shocked as he looked from me to my roommate and back. He blinked. "I thought I'd come early. Is this, uh... is this a bad time?"
I grinned, shook my head, doing my best not to look like a madmare, and ambled over to him. "So where're we going for dinner tonight? You did say it would be a surprise."
