Vinyl's Night Out
There was a fire crackling madly behind Octavia, warming up her house. There were a few pictures of Octavia and Vinyl Scratch on the oaken shelf above the fireplace, some with Vinyl in various silly poses.
Vinyl takes very few things seriously; something Octavia has come to realize, dread, as well as accept out of her room-mate.
Octavia sat in a red chair that held intricate wooden designs in the front of the armrests, holding a glass of wine between her front hooves.
Sitting across from Octavia in a similar chair was a stallion. He wore a pair of rimless glasses along with a red tie. He also had an air of professionalism about him; a stark contrast to Vinyl and her silliness.
The stallion was currently going over his notes from the last session he had with Octavia. Once he felt that he was studied up in preparation for the conversation ahead, he adjusted his glasses and tie.
After he cleared his throat he asked his first question. “So Octavia, just how different are you and Vinyl Scratch exactly?”
Octavia took a sip of her red wine before answering. “Vinyl Scratch and I are completely different mares.” she said while swishing her drink around. She thought on what to say next for a minute or so. “Vinyl loves to stay out late and party after a show. That usually includes drinking... heavy, heavy drinking.”
Meanwhile in Manehattan
Vinyl Scratch and Neon Lights sat in a private booth of a nightclub, relaxing a bit and having a few drinks after the crazy show they just got done with. The music was blaring even though there were very few ponies out on the dance floor - or in the club for that matter.
“Oh man, Neon!” exclaimed Vinyl, “That was one of the best shows ever!”
“It was pretty crazy, wasn't it? I have never seen a mosh pit that big before!” Neon said while holding a drink in his right hoof, spilling it slightly as he spoke.
Vinyl chuckled a bit at her friend’s clumsiness. “I'm just happy we were on stage and not down there in it!” she went to take a drink of her own but the cup was bone dry. Needing a refill, she waved a hoof at a waitress. “I don't think that was one I would have liked to be in!”
The waitress came over with a bottle of Vodka and filled Vinyl’s glass a quarter of the way up. Upon seeing this, Vinyl rotated her hoof to let her know she wanted more than that. But when she only put in a little drop instead of topping the glass off like she wanted, that is when she spoke up. “You know what, just leave the bottle here. I'll pay for the thing before we leave.”
The waitress looked at her for a second, seriously considering calling an ambulance for this crazy mare. After thinking on this for a second, she decided that she would be fine and placed the bottle on the table. She could only watch as Vinyl immediately grabbed the bottle and started to chug it, only stopping to take a much-needed breath. “Oh man!” she smacked her lips a few times, “They just don't make vodka as strong as they use to!”
Neon and the waitress shared a glance with each other, and then looked back at Vinyl with wide eyes and slack jaws, “That is Everfree Vodka, Vinyl!” Neon yelled, pointing to the bottle.
Waving a hoof to show mild interest, she responded. “No it's not; it's that generic kind you can buy for really cheap.”
Neon just shook his head and pointed at the bottle. “Look at the label, Vinyl!”
She looked at it for a second, “See, told ya-” she stopped in the middle of her sentence to look at the bottle again. “They must have just watered it down is all...” she said a little more quietly then she was speaking before. Her eyes were a few sizes bigger than dinner plates and her pupils the size of pin heads.
The waitress shook her head as she spoke, making her crimped blue mane bounce a little. “That was a fresh bottle. I just opened it when you arrived.”
Back in Ponyville
“I only drink wine socially.” continued Octavia, adjusting herself in an attempted to get a little more comfy.
After writing down her answer and taking a few notes on the matter, he continued his line of questions. “I see. And where does she go to drink after her shows?”
Octavia took another sip of her drink before answering. “Well, she usually goes from club to club all night, non-stop. I honestly don't know how she does it!” she chuckled a bit before continuing. “I need a full eight hours of sleep, minimum, to be able to function properly. Vinyl is usually running on five a night!”
The stallion nodded, writing down some more notes for later use.
Manehattan
“Why don' we hid up a different cup... clup... club, this one is a-a bit dry.” suggested a now much more drunk Vinyl Scratch, looking out to the almost barren wasteland of a dance floor.
Neon chugged his drink before slamming the now empty cup on the table. “Let’s go!” he shouted louder than needed.
They both got up and headed for the exit, stumbling the entire way “Yo bar keep, put that-put that on my tab!” she shouted, the pony working the bar nodded in acknowledgment as the two left for a different club.
“You know she’s never going to pay that tab, right?” the waitress asked.
“Don't worry, I sent the bill to her house. If she doesn't have a headache when she wakes up in the morning, she will when she gets the mail.” he chuckled a bit at that.
Vinyl and Neon stumbled their way down a sidewalk for half an hour, looking for a new club to party at. The one they found just so happened to be right across the street from the one they left.
On their way to the new club, they passed a homeless pony sitting in an alleyway. “Could you spare a bit or two to help out a homeless...” he trailed off upon seeing how drunk the two were.”... Umm, I suggest you two slow down on the alcohol...”
“Ah, what to... do, you know! You’re just a home... homeless drink-drunk!” countered Vinyl, not even bothering to look at the pony as the passed him.
As they approached the club, they could hear music blaring and ponies talking, “This place sounds lively!” Neon said as they entered the club.
And lively it was! The entire dance floor was filled with everything from ponies to griffons, “Hey, how 'bout-how 'bout we get out there and d-dance!” Vinyl exclaimed while dragging Neon by a hoof to the dance floor.
“No, Vinyl! You know I can't dan-dance to save my wife-life!” he yelled, trying to get away from the crazy mare.
While bumping into a few ponies that were enjoying a drink or two, she responded, “So?”
“So, why are you makin' me do it?!” he almost sound a little scared.
“You don't heed-need to save your life!” she shot a small grin his way.
As soon as they were on the dance floor, Vinyl started to do something only a drunken pony would call dancing. She was flailing her fore hooves around like a mad mare and shaking her head around like she was a wet dog drying itself.
Some other ponies on the dance floor were looking at her and laughing, some shaking their heads. Neon stood there awkwardly, rubbing his left leg looking at some of the ponies staring at him. “... I'm not with her!” he quickly stated before running off to the bar to get another drink.
Ponyville
“Well,” the stallion continued, “How does your musical taste differ?”
Octavia chuckled a little as she filled her glass with some more wine, “Well, Vinyl listens to Dubstep and Techno music - if you can call that music - while I on the other
Hoof, listen to classical music... real, music,” she took a sip of her now full glass before continuing, “Just about as different as the night is from the day.”
The voice gave a small laugh, “Well, I can see how that might affect your life.”
“Yes, well... it isn't so bad once you get use to it, I guess.” she said while looking down, a small blush forming on her cheeks.
There was a pregnant pause before the voice continued, “Well, this is all the time we have for tonight's session. We will need to continue this next time.”
Octavia looked at the clock on the wall; it read twelve o’clock “Is it that time already? Oh how time flies.” she sighed.
After seeing the therapist out, Octavia promptly went to bed, falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
The Next Morning
Octavia woke to the sun shining in her eyes. At first she pulled the covers over her face to try and go back to sleep, but she could hear Vinyl snoring in the other room.
Deciding it was pointless to try and fall back asleep; she got up and started her day off with some eggs and toast for breakfast.
She read the newspaper as she ate her eggs, the front headline read.
'Royal Guard Called to Concert, Mosh Pit out of Control!'
Octavia slowed her chewing a bit as she read the article.
Late last night, the Royal Guard was called to the concert of Vinyl Scratch and Neon Lights. The entire audience descended into madness as a small 'mosh pit' grew out of control and threatened to spill out into the streets. Thankfully, the Royal Guard got there in time to stop--
Octavia skipped the boring details to get to the aftermath part of the article and continued to read from there.
After all was settled down, a total of forty-three ponies were injured, with twenty of them ending up in the hospital for various broken bones and lacerations to the body. There was a picture of a pony on a stretcher holding his back left leg, the quote read, ”My leg!” said this poor stallion on his way to the hospital.”
Octavia chuckled a bit at that last one.
She put down the newspaper and sifted through the rest of the mail on the table.
“Bills, bills, junk mail, not mine, invitation to play at the 'Grand Galloping Gala', jun- what a second,” she stopped herself to look at that last one a second time to make sure she read it right, “Huh, I thought I would never be invited back there after what happened at the last one.” she set that one aside to read it later.
As she was going through the rest of the mail, she came across a letter addressed to Vinyl. There was a look of shock and outrage on Octavia's face after she read what turned out to be an outstanding tab of Vinyl's. She marched to Vinyl's room, slammed open the door, and threw the letter at Vinyl's face.
“How can you drink two thousand bits worth of alcohol in one night!?”
Vinyl had a strange, vague feeling that today was not going to be a good day.
Author's Note
I am not good at drunken talk.
