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               The Cutie Mark Indie Rockers                
                    -by djredmidnight-                     
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             The Writing on the Telephone Pole             
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The Writing on the Telephone Pole
THE CUTIE MARK INDIE ROCKERS
There are a few rites of passage, written and unwritten, in every pony’s life. But more than getting their first kiss or going to the Pony Prom, just about as much as learning of the magic of friendship, most colts and fillies would agree that the biggest and most important of them all, not to mention to look most forward to, is getting one’s cutie mark.
The cutie mark is something that every pony receives on their flank before they reach adulthood and graduate from school. But unlike other shared experiences, like getting one’s first shave or mare cut, or listening as their voices keep getting deeper, the cutie mark is unique in that each one is different, with not one being the same as another.
Most colts and fillies would also agree that reaching the destination, seeing that their cutie mark has appeared is not nearly as fun and exciting as the journey to it. The cutie mark is the ultimate signifier of what its bearer is all about, and what makes them especially unique. To get there, though, a young pony must not only figure out any special talents that they may have, but also find themselves and not be afraid to do so. Only once a pony has done that, will the mark that can never fade or be taken away magically appear on the now bearer’s flank.
Unlike other benchmarks of a young pony’s childhood and adolescence, there is no set time frame as to when all colts and fillies will have their cutie mark. Some will get it pretty young, but then some will have a blank flank until they’ve just about grown all the way up. Like with a few other things in a pony’s life, how fast or slow it happens depends not only on how fast a young colt or filly is when they truly find themselves, but also when they learn to truly embrace being themselves. And with this in mind, this is why a fair number of fillies get their cutie marks so early on, and why so many are stuck wondering if they will be doomed to have a blank flank for the rest of their lives.
This fear had been scaring the youngsters of Ponyville for quite some time; quite possibly, though, none more so than Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Apple Blossom, three fillies who attended grammar school in Ponyville and, besides trying to make as good of grades as everyone else in their class, had hobbies and chores that took most all of their time not spent doing homework or spending time with family.
Frustration for the three fillies became more intense than ever when the better part of their classmates, colts and fillies alike, began coming to class and showing off the cuties marks that suddenly had painted their flanks the night before. One classmate even had a party at her house in order to celebrate the arrival of her cutie mark, and invited all of her young friends to attend.
Somewhat to their surprise, Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, and Sweetie Belle were all invited to the party, thus being encouraged to come and show off their newly acquired cutie marks as well. TThis was surprising, on the count of that particular classmate, not to mention her almost exact carbon copy friends, were especially mean and cantankerous bullies that seemingly only got their joy from belittling others. Trying to not assume the worst, as all three had been taught to abide by since they were very small, Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, and Sweetie Belle still attended the party, all totally confident that come that evening, all three would bring the key ingredient to the celebration as well.
A fair number of other colts and fillies arrived at the party with blank flanks, but all of them would leave sporting the cuties marks that showed all of Equestria what they truly were all about. But when three of the guests, Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Apple Bloom, had realized that it hasn’t happened for them, too, none of them were the first to notice and this sparked the chants of, “BLANK FLANKS! BLANK FLANKS!” Luckily, just as their parents, friends, and siblings had learned before them, the magic of friendship would also show the three mark-less fillies that there’s not only nothing to be ashamed of, but that there truly is strength in numbers.
Apple Bloom, the younger sister of Apple Jack, for some reason, was the most ostracized by the very cruel girls in her class who not only got their cutie marks with an amazing quickness, but also who believed that all their was to life was having a beautiful mane, the most up to date looks, and doing what needed to be done to get a date with the cutest colts in class. Born into a family where hard work, strength, and faithfulness rules over all, Apple Bloom just couldn’t get on board with such things so she, insisting on being “different” from the other fillies, became a favorite target. Then, come the disastrous party, and this was upgraded to the laughing stock of not only just the three class bullies, but also the other colts and fillies who were far too afraid to defy the lead of the most popular little ponies in class.
Apple Bloom was quite sure that she would be doomed to such torture for the rest of her life, or at least until she graduated. But when Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle not only refused to join in, but then dared to align themselves with the outcast, they too sealed their fate.
The trio soon realized that they couldn’t give a horse’s hoof less about being popular and that, with the same mission on their mind, a close friendship could potentially be formed. And sure enough, the bond between them formed quickly, with the fillies not just getting to know each other, but becoming the best of friends by way of working towards the same mission. Thus, the Cutie Mark Crusaders were born.
Right from the get-go, while the trio had come together for the mutual cause of helping each other do whatever needed to be done and discovered in order to get their cutie marks, they all vowed to stick together and be friends forever, no matter what. They helped each other in class and outside of it with their homework; they assisted one another when need be with their chores; and, more important as they began to get older, their bond getting stronger, they helped each other whenever bullies needed to be fended off.
Most important, though, the three fillies devoted all of their free time seeking out a wide array of hobbies, interests, activities, and other things they just might be good at, all in hopes that one would stick and convert to that one “special thing” of theirs. Surely, on paper, it all sounded not just easy, but also super fun to go on such a mission. But over time, though, after every single thing they could think up didn’t yield any results, with some even resulting in near disaster and humiliation, Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Apple Bloom could all agree that getting their cutie marks was not only the hardest thing they’d worked for thus far, but also was the most frustrating.
In the span of several weeks, the things that the three fillies attempted to make their own could fill a roll of paper as long as a country mile. The trio tried their hand at cooking, bungee jumping, and bull riding. The youngsters also tried their hooves at softball, basketball, and powder puff football. Then when those things didn’t work, Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, and Sweetie Belle found themselves trying to find their way by trying to be circus performers, skateboarders, and even members of Ponyville’s Roller Derby team. While some were more fun than others, and the girls were mildly okay at some, none of them did they ever excel at, and so the seemingly endless frustration continued.
This would all continue on for the longest time, with not one of any girl’s bright idea, no matter how good it was (or how good it seemed at the time) getting them the result they wanted. The trio even entered a school talent show where, dressed up in loud costumes and makeup, came out and performed an original song that left most all of the audience speechless…but probably not for good reasons. For their efforts, the Cutie Mark Crusaders earned the prize that night for not best original song, or even best vocal music act, but rather best comedy act. This all seemed great for the night, but once all was said and done, the fillies realized now what even the peers, who were supposed to be the most supportive of them were trying to say: that it was they who were the jokes, and that the people that might’ve seemed to be cheering them on were actually laughing at them.
Coming to this realization stung a lot more than any of the three youngsters could have ever imagined. Here they were, trying to achieve the same things that were important to any other colt or filly their age, not to mention walk on the same journey that each of them must in order to find what they’re good at and find themselves at the same time. But exactly why, they absolutely couldn’t figure out, was it that everyone kept on mocking and belittling them for all of their blunders and shortcomings, when everyone else kept on making the same ones, falling just as hard at that, too. They had all been taught not to let any of the antagonists get to them, bring them down, as these bullies had nothing else going for them and therefore had to make others feel awful about themselves to fill in the wide gaps in their meaningless life. Having to put up with this in the here and now, though, and knowing that they just wouldn’t show any mercy always made it that much harder to heed this otherwise good advice from their older siblings.
“You know, maybe that’s the problem; that those are the only ponies that we see every day, and so the only ponies we see every day are the ones who know us, and that’s why they all laugh at us,” said Sweetie Belle one afternoon while hanging out with her now two best friends, Scootaloo and Apple Bloom in the tree house that Apple Jack helped them build on the Apple Family’s farm. “Maybe if we could meet other colts and fillies that aren’t in our class…like, are our age and stuff, but then live somewhere else and could care less about how none of us have our cutie marks. Maybe they’d even think that we are cool, and it would be great because we’d only have to deal with those people at school, but no time else.”
“That’s a great idea!” Apple Bloom piped up as she took the record that was just playing a couple of minutes prior off of the turntable, put it back into its cardboard casing, and turned on KPNY, the one station in Ponyville that played the music that most everybody the girls knew, their age, older, and younger, were all really into and listened to religiously. “I mean, I don’t know how we would do that, because the only way to meet other ponies that don’t know us is to go and hang out in Canterlot or other parts of Equestria far far away, and we can’t always do that. If only there was some way that we could meet and make friends with people who didn’t know us, and didn’t automatically want to only be friends with the other fillies in our class that already have their cutie marks.”
Everyone in the trio tried contemplating ways that this could be accomplished without having to always take the train to Canterlot, which was not only expensive (especially for three), but also involved riding overnight to reach that, the capital of Equestria, and the home of the land’s princess and other royalty. Eventually, though, all three grew tired of this, and pretty much were forced to accept the fact that there was no way to meet new people that didn’t know them in Ponyville, and that, more than anything, learning all of the hard lessons about failure, tough times, humiliation, and bullies were just a fact of life, and could only make them stronger.
“This is DJ PON3 here on 106.5, KPNY, the best tracks and hottest hits for all of you out here in Ponyville,” the ever-familiar voice came on the speakers after a pop track ended that the girls knew most everyone class loved and owned the record of. For the most part, this station only played one particular genre of music, and the variety had gotten less and less over time.
But on the other hand, anyone who showed up to the many singing competitions and talent shows that were held all over Ponyville and could sing like the other musically-inclined ponies that came before them were almost sure to land themselves not only a music-related cutie mark, but also a record deal that also almost guaranteed that their songs would be played constantly on KPNY. And if they were really good, they would get played all the time on the daily set of DJ PON3, who was widely regarded as a tastemaker of sorts around not just Ponyville, but all of Equestria, as her show was syndicated across most all frequencies within the boundaries of the pony-friendly land.
In other words, if DJ PON3 said that some band or singer was cool and hip, you’d better not question whether or not you should be buying that record or playing a concert in your town, and you surely will stick out like a sore hoof if you don’t keep up with who and what she featured on her show the night before.
Almost since they day of their birth, music always was a constant in the lives of each member of the Cutie Mark Crusaders. From such a young age, Sweetie Belle’s older sister, Rarity, always was singing in her free time, or at home with the radio on, and originally had aspirations to seek a career as Ponyville’s next pop star before realized that her true calling was in fashion design. And so, it was this kind of music that Sweetie Belle first fell in love with, as was the case with Scootaloo. And while she now listened to the pop music featured on KPNY as much as her friends and classmates, Apple Bloom was raised up on the country music that her parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and Apple Jack were digging whenever there was a place to plug in a radio or a record player.
Obviously the trio wasn’t the only ones that kept up on music, the trends that came with it, because this was one of the most common things discussed besides gossip amongst classmates. This also may have helped the fact that over the last several years, Ponyville has produced a pretty large number of good singers who has not only achieved a bit of local celebrity around town, but who have also landed themselves a record deal, sold many copies of their records, toured all of Equestria and beyond, and generally amassed worldwide fame in the process. It was cool, too, because a few of them the three young fillies knew, or their older siblings had gone to school with when they were much younger.
Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Apple Bloom were all super passionate about music and, for the longest time, were pretty sure that whatever their calling may be, whatever activity would merit the receipt of their cutie mark, that it would have something to do with music. After all, two of the girls, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, had expressed interest in taking up a musical instrument and had begun to learn to play them long before they met; Scootaloo the violin and Apple Bloom the guitar, in hopes of someday being part of a country band that sang about life on the farm and the such. Both had gained a little more than a working knowledge of how to play their respective instruments, even performing during a couple of recitals held at the Ponyville Performing Arts Center. But then both of them eventually lost interest in playing, and their instruments just collected dust under their beds.  
All three girls also had great singing voices, and also knew so from a young age; there were many occasions where each of them would find themselves, all alone in their bedrooms, singing along to the songs on the radio and using a spatula or mane brush to imagine as if they were belting out their well-loved numbers for thousands of screaming fans at the sold out Ponyville Coliseum.
And once the quest for the cutie mark began, the fillies made this known to most everyone in town while singing their own number regarding the quest they were embarking on. Then again, with that year’s “Best Comedy Act” award under their saddles, it surely was a far cry from being taken as seriously as the other young girls of whom DJ PON3 and other radio personalities were showering with adoration. So, in light of realizing all of this, the girls all began to accept that a life in music probably wasn’t in the cards for any of them, and got back to work figuring out what things they were yet to cross off their list.
The next time that Apple Blossom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle had a free day off in order to go “on the hunt” for their cutie mark, neither of them thought that an entire day would be burnt with nothing to show for, or that they would have to think so hard for things to set out and partake in. That’s exactly what happened, though, with even some of the things they did that day being counted amongst not just some of the most out of the ordinary, but also some of the most downright bizarre.
It began innocently enough, when Apple Bloom suggested that perhaps they ought to earn their cutie marks by way of showing their skill and passions in wrestling. Because, on top of it being a fun sport to get into, it was one that most all of the boys (and a couple of the girls secretly) loved and watched every week when it was broadcast on TV. Many of the boys even had posters on their bedroom walls of their favorite ECW (Equine Championship Wrestling) stars, and were excited when one of the typically televised events was to be held for the citizens of Ponyville to buy a ticket to see, live and up close. But despite having the best and most outlandish costumes that any pony had ever seen, courtesy of Rarity and her extensive, albeit reluctant, research on the style of clothing that such performers wear, the experience resulted in little more than quite a bit more embarrassment and a couple of nearly broken bones here and there. “So much for being the next Hoofs Hogan or Macho Colt,” was all any of the young fillies could think, and decided to move on.
But after one more week, which was a break from school for all of the youngsters of Ponyville, the trio was more frustrated than ever, when they realized that the mission to achieve pretty much their one and only goal was a great big failure. After the wrestling debacle, they tried something a little more tame in dog grooming, then got a crazy idea that maybe their true calling was competitive video gaming. Neither that nor motorcycle or race car driving was really their thing either, and so it was the case when they ended their stint as cosmetologists.
What possibly stung the most, especially for Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom, was that they were totally confident that whatever they earned their cutie mark by doing, it would probably be something that ran in the family, thus one of the only ways to make their families proud of them; this never happened though. But when a cutie mark did not appear on Apple Bloom’s flank after working since they were very young out on the apple farm, and mainly Sweetie Belle just could not acquire a knack for anything to do with beauty or fashion, their mothers, fathers, and older sisters took all the time that was needed to make sure that all of them were loved, no matter what, and that they were supported regardless of what the youngsters’ calling turned out to be. The trio were very glad to know this, but it still didn’t make the whole process any less frustrating.
The next Friday that the trio had off from school, they planned to get together, hang out all night in their club house, and spend that time plotting what the next missions were on their mutual quest. So, after school, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle followed Apple Bloom back to her family’s farm and, after helping some members of her family buck the last of the current crop of apples from a row of trees, ate dinner and made their way up to the tree house. Once there, Apple Bloom was eager to tell the other two best friends all about some things that she’d come up with, and was so excited that she’d remembered all of them despite not jotting them down.
“Come on guys, how is it that you’ll do wrestling and roller derby, but you won’t even think of doing that?” Apple Bloom was shocked as the other two in the group shot down her suggestions to try sky diving and bungee jumping, but especially objected to seeing whether or not taking up professional skateboarding at the Ponyville Skate Park would earn them their coveted flank adornments. And with that, the brainstorming went on for a little while longer, but eventually came to a standstill. Just like beforehand, this frustrated the trio like nothing else, also rekindling the worry that they would have blank flanks for the rest of their lives. Little did they know, though, that their possible answer would come to them in the form of something that was hidden a little ways out from the comforts of the family farm.
“What the heck is that?” asked Scootaloo, in reference to the increasing amount of noise that wouldn’t stop, and eventually could not be drowned out by the TV or stereo, even at full blast. It didn’t stop them from trying, though, but then they quickly had to turn it right back down to a normal volume when Apple Jack came out, making a request so that she could get some sleep. What she would soon realize, though, is that even if her little sister and her friends had cranked their own entertainment up to obscene levels, what was keeping Apple Jack up was nothing like even they had ever heard of before.
“I don’t think it’s coming from anywhere on the farm,” confirmed Apple Bloom, who clarified that she had never heard anything like this coming from any room in any house, belonging to any brother, sister, or other member of her family, or being blasted when she was helping them out in the orchards during harvest season. She knew this, partially because the better part of her immediate and extended family listened exclusively to country music, and those who didn’t, mainly the rest of the younger generation, favored the kinds of stuff DJ PON3 played on her show; pop, alternative rock, and a little bit of hoof-hop thrown in for good measure.
None of the girls were even sure if the noise was even music, or just a few people running around being loud and obnoxious with instruments when they really shouldn’t have been. With not too much provocation, though, curiosity got the best of the rest of the trio, and they were making their way down the ladder leading to their club house, away from the border of the family’s property, and down the not-so-beaten path through the neighboring scary woods that went way out past the farm.
As they got further and further out, being greeted by friendly owls, some other ponies playing night time games, as well as a few others making out where nobody could see them, what sounded like noise back at the club house now began to mesh together, eventually making perfect sense; the drums added something to the guitar sounds they heard, the guitars made the low end of the bass sound really good, and the occasional keyboards or piano (at least what it sounded like at first) also made what they were hearing hummable. But then as the trio of fillies neared an gap in the trees, which opened up into a huge open area surrounded the rest of the way by trees, the sight was like nothing else that they’d ever seen anywhere in Ponyville.
“Hey, thank you all for coming out tonight, ladies and gentle ponies!” a somewhat friendly, but gruff-sounding male pony spoke into the microphone before him. This pony, as well as the one wielding a green guitar, another holding a purple bass guitar, one standing up on their hind legs ready to play what actually was a synthesizer, and one more propped up behind the drum kit, all looked to be about the same age as their older siblings, Apple Jack and Rarity, but they all had a certain style that was completely different from all of them.
“Wow, I wonder what Rarity would say about all of this!” exclaimed Sweetie Belle as she took a look around at the scene around them; for someone exposed to fashion via her big sister from dating back to when she was very tiny, Sweetie Belle could never recall her sister ever saying anything about styles as being worn by these ponies, and she had a sneaking suspicion that Rarity, who was all about what she called “high fashion (whatever that meant),” would not be too big of a fan of this.
A countless number of the ponies that were there to see the band play were wearing glasses, but they weren’t the stylish or trendy ones that all of the cool ponies who needed them all went for. Instead they mostly had thick, black rims, or looked similar to the ones their grandparents might’ve worn, or could have been picked up at the ninety-nine cents store. Most of the ponies were also wearing beanie hats though it wasn’t very cold out, even during the small hours of the morning.
A number of the boys had facial hair, and lots of it, and were wearing earrings; none of the boys in their class, let alone in any of their families had pierced ears. And the vast majority of the ponies, boys and girls in the audience, were wearing either plaid flannel shirts or drab corduroy jackets, paired with cheap-looking blue jeans or slacks. Add on the assumed band shirts that all except just a few of the ponies were wearing, but were of bands none of the Cutie Mark Crusaders had ever heard of, and the trio were sure that they were ones that no one else in their school knew about.
None of the fillies knew exactly what they were seeing but, despite being way out in the middle of nowhere when they really should have been sound asleep, they felt strangely like they belonged here than they did amongst their sometimes very judgmental classmates, most of which were obsessed over trying to get on the good sides of the likes of Diamond Tiara, who pretty much dictated who was accepted and who would probably be ostracized until they were a cult or filly no more.
“We are The Stable Fire, and we are so glad to be out here playing for all of you,” the front pony said as he took a sip of something from a can that what white and red with a blue circle in the middle. “This is our next song…it’s called ‘Neon Book.’” After the thanks of kindness and the introduction of the song, the five piece band launched into a mellow song with a medium rhythm, which was like nothing else they had heard before; not while hanging out with any friends of family; not on the radio; not at any school dance; and definitely not being talked about by any of their classmates, all of which stuck to what was trendy or popular at any given moment.
There was no school the next day, but there was still plenty of work to do on the farm, and with their respective families. Before helping Applejack and Big Macintosh with whatever hard work they had in store for that day, Apple Bloom set herself out on a quest to find where she could hear the band that was playing out in the woods only a few hours prior.
Between several bouts of fiddling with the antenna on the little stereo system in her bedroom, she very slowly moved the tuning dial on its radio, listening carefully for what was picked up. She begat at the end of the spectrum where her and most everyone else’s favorite station, KPNY was, but then went further in hopes that that song by the band would turn up. Then she went the other way on the FM spectrum, then flipped over to AM, which was even worse, when she didn’t hear what she want. The University of Equestria, which was a bit of a train ride away from Ponyville, had its own station that specialized in exposing unsigned, unknown, and much more adventurous music. Sadly, the Apple Family’s farm was way out of range for Apple Bloom’s antenna to pick up signals from as far out as that, so it was definite that in order to figure out how to hear what they just heard, perhaps they would need to figure out exactly what it was that they heard amidst a sea of flannels, band shirts and facial hair.
“Apple Bloom are you almost ready to start working? It’s getting hot out and we’ve still gotta plant a ton of seeds!” Applejack exclaimed from the opposite side of her little sister’s door, where all she heard were little blips of music followed by a few more of static. She had no idea what her little sister was up to, generally didn’t want to know, this decided that perhaps it might be a little bit awkward if she went ahead and asked anyways.
“Yeah, I’m comin’, sis, just a second.” Apple Bloom got out as she finally gave up and shut off her stereo realizing that either she and her friends were just imagining things because, seriously, there is no way that her friends ever would have snuck out in the middle of the night to the dark parts of the woods, but especially to chase what wound up being a band playing music that they were sure few other ponies knew about…that is, if it even existed!
Minutes later, Apple Bloom had made it out of the house, and was outside helping kick some of the earth free, depositing dirt inside of the holes, and making sure that they had plenty of water to start growing as quickly as possible. Once what would be some of that harvest season’s crops, the trio of farming ponies moved on to other important jobs, such as making sure that all of the animals had enough food, changing the oil on the tractor, and then painting the barn. Certainly, with all three of them doing the work, it definitely would all be done for the day by the time dusk came. It was when she was helping hold the oil drain pan under the tractor that maybe asking what she was thinking wouldn’t be such a bad idea, even if her big brother or big sister maybe would think she was crazy for just a moment.
“Hey, sis, have you ever heard of a band called The Stable Fire?”
“Nope, can’t say that I have Apple Bloom. Heck, I don’t reckon I ever even heard that combination of words come together anyways, unless it was someone telling someone to bring a bucket of water and a hose because the horses were in danger.”
“Oh, okay. I mean, I know you like the country music and all, and even if you maybe listen to stuff that not everybody else listens to around these parts, then I was just wondering. Hey, Big Macintosh, have you ever heard of The Stable Fire?”
“N-n-n-nope,” the taller, more boisterous, deeper-voiced boy pony of the Apple Clan responded in his normal fashion. Apple Bloom was not all that surprised that her big brother wasn’t in the know, at all regarding the existence or the sound of the band with the strange name and the sound not like anything else on the radio. In all honesty, though, it did take her aback a tiny bit, because Big Macintosh did play the trumpet in the band when he was in school and was charged with learning about all sorts of less-than-mainstream genres such as jazz. And while jazz is definitely quite a bit different than what she, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle were exposed to back in the woods, it led her to believe that maybe her big brother was a lot more aware of such things than he led other ponies on to believe.
Being that it was the weekend, there was no school the next day, thus giving the fillies some more time to regroup, and at least that another one of them had better luck than the others in figuring out not only what the strange noise was that they had heard in the woods, but also why they had never seen any pony around town, but especially in their class, dressed like the ponies they saw enjoying the music, drinking whatever it was in those white and red cans with the blue circles on them.
“I didn’t find anything at all,” confessed Scootaloo, who was disappointed in herself that, after talking to most everyone she could think of that she knew in town (who wasn’t Diamond Tiara, Babs Seed, or Silver Spoon, of course), it was as if she was speaking a foreign language. Apple Bloom felt equally as bad in that she only was able to ask members of her family and didn’t turn up anything they could use either. But just when the three of them thought that that last day of freedom before they’d head back to school would be chock full of nothing but doom and gloom, Sweetie Belle came running to catch up to her friends, clutching something in her mouth that the other two just couldn’t make out.
“I found it! I found it!” the other two could hear Sweetie Belle yelling with excitement as she finally was walking with them.
“Found what?” a confused Apple Bloom inquired. “And what in Pink Lady’s name do you got there that you were running with in your mouth?”  
“It’s this! Have a look at what I found on a telephone pole by our house, and on a bunch more out on Mane Street!”
Apple Bloom grabbed the fluorescent yellow piece of paper from Sweetie Belle’s mouth after she also mentioned that she had found absolutely nothing useful, and mentioned that her sister, Rarity, even thought she was speaking some kind of nonsense, and asked to not be bothered in favor of getting a huge order of dresses available. That was, until she saw and read this:
“COME ONE, COME EVERY PONY TO HELP CELEBRATE THE OPENING OF THE FIRST INDIE ROCK CLUB RIGHT HERE IN PONYVILLE, THE SADDLE UP CLUB!
“ADMISSION IS FREE, AND ALL AGES ARE WELCOME TO COME OUT AND SEE SOME GREAT INDIE ROCK BANDS FROM HERE AND NEARBY PONYVILLE.
“REFRESHMENTS WILL BE SERVED FOR ALL. LADIES AND GENTLE PONIES MAY ENJOY $1 CANS OF PINTO BLUE CIRCLE ALL NIGHT.
“THE BANDS SCHEDULED TO HELP MAKE THIS GRAND OPENING AWESOME ARE HUMAN COLLECTIVE; THE COLTS; FLEET FILLIES AND, LAST BUT DEFINITELY NOT LEAST, THE STABLE FIRE FROM RIGHT HERE IN PONYVILLE!
“THE DOORS FOR THIS FIRST OF MANY EVENTS OPEN AT EIGHT P.M., WITH THE MUSIC STARTING AT NINE AND GOING UNTIL…WHENEVER! THE SADDLE UP CLUB IS LOCATED ON THE CORNER OF THIRD AND MANE, IN THE OLD PAPER MILL.”
“Wow, so I guess we weren’t just making it up!” said Scootaloo as she re-read the flyer obviously taken from a telephone pole, as two of the corners were ripped off, obviously those tiny scraps of bright paper still stapled to where the whole flyer once was.
“I was pretty sure we weren’t. Because besides the fact that you two were there with me, seeing the band out there in the woods, Apple Jack obviously had heard it, because she was the one thinking we were making the noise, even though it definitely wasn’t us!” Apple Bloom responded. “But now this is great, because now we not only can check out that band again, but then we can also see what all those silly costumes were about, too. And, we now know what to call it: ‘indie rock,’ whatever that means!”
“Beats me! But there always are some ways to find out, even if nobody in our family know what the heck we’re talking about!”
Unlike in many other towns, big and small, in Equestria, The Ponyville Public Library was open all seven days, and all day at that. Therefore, for three young fillies on a quest for information that they knew absolutely nothing about, it was awesome since they didn’t have to wait until after school the next day to begin such a quest.
The trio of fillies began by poking around the non-fiction section, specifically the rows of shelves that said to have books about “MUSIC AND THE ARTS.” A few of the books they found to begin with were about the lives and works of famous pony painters, and more yet others famous for making well loved classic movies. After that, though, there were tons of books on music, started off with a history of how classical music began being made from all over Equestria, and a biography of the famous jazz saxophonist, John Colttrane.
But after hoofing it through what would be the correct stacks for almost an hour, Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle had, yet again, had no such luck they were hoping for. Searching the card catalog turned up nothing else either, nor did asking the question of the town librarian. As a matter of fact, the question about current music that nobody else knew about triggered her own diatribe about how the music of today is “so complicated,” and spoke of how she yearned for the days when “music was simple,” and it wasn’t all “so loud, noisy, and wild.” That, the fillies knew, was their cue to politely say goodbye and make their exit.
After walking around a little bit more, the trio came to realize that while the town’s librarian might not always be able to point them in the right direction, they had a friend that, in not even in one percent of cases, couldn’t actually do so, regardless of what they needed; that friend, “of course,” Apple Bloom answered, was Twilight Sparkle who, on break from her royal duties, regularly stayed at, did some work from, and sometimes even got to read for pleasure and get some real rest inside of the same place she’d been living ever since her move to Ponyville.
“So, we have something to look up and hopefully find out about, but then we weren’t able to when we went to the library, and they didn’t know about it there, either,” Apple Bloom explained, looking as if she and her two best friends were on a quest for the holy grail or something.
“I’m sorry, girls,” a confused Twilight Sparkle replied, “but exactly what was it that you were looking for that the Ponyville Library didn’t have?”
“Something about the band The Stable Fire, and about something called Indie Rock?”
“I don’t know if I have anything about that.”
“Did one of you girls say The Stable Fire?” asked Spike who, little did most anyone know, was not only a huge music fan, but had quite discriminating tastes to boot. “Because, they are only one of the best bands I’ve heard in a long time, and they’re even going to be playing a show here in Ponyville next weekend!”
“Wow, so you know who they are? Do you know much else about this Indie Rock, then?”
“Well, I know that I love a lot of Indie Rock, but I don’t know a whole lot about the history of it, if that’s what you’re asking. But if you’d like to learn, I remember that Twilight Sparkle has a book on just that around on one of these shelves. Here, let me get it for you.”
Twilight Sparkle would have definitely gotten it down for the young fillies, thus saving Spike the trip up the tall ladder to get whatever volume it was down. Luckily the guilt didn’t last for very long, because Spike was very quick to find the book, a pretty thick blue one that obviously hadn’t been cracked in a very long time, evident by all of the dust, and brought it down to the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Knowing that the book was not only very old, but also belonging to a very good friend, the girls definitely knew to be careful while perusing the book, getting the information that, since that morning, they felt that they absolutely needed to know; why, exactly they were not sure, but that realization would come to them, quite possibly, in the near future.
“Wow, there’s a lot to this!” exclaimed Scootaloo, who skimmed through the book from the beginning, not only reading the relevant paragraphs, but also getting a good look of photo after photo of ponies that, for all intents and purposes, looked a lot more like the ponies in their families and that they saw everyday walking around Ponyville and the other places they’d visited all around Equestria; that was, these were musicians that looked nothing like the pop singers, rappers, and so-called rock bands that were constantly played on the radio, who played concerts at Ponyville Arena, and whose videos were staples on MMN, Manestream Music Network. This was the first clue that what they had seen back in the woods was not a figment of their vivid imaginations. And with that, the fillies continued perusing the book, as did Spike, who was hoping to see a mention of some of his favorite bands.
The Indie Rock music, the book said, was a really broad term that, despite it usually used for two or three specific styles within it, can be used to define the kind of alternative sounding music that ponies began making as a rebellion from the stuff that still can fill up arenas, gets on the radio and, worst of all, is dominated and dictated by major record labels telling its artists what kind of music they ought to make. The focus was, and still is, on music that dares to take risks, and has a fan base of devoted music lovers who, like them, are not fans of what the mainstream churns out.
The book then mentioned that such a term really began being used back in the 1980s, but then when groups such as Neighvana got really popular for a minute, it generally changed everything…regardless of what sub genre any given indie band might also fall firmly into. Most of what is called indie rock, though, the author of the book added, is the stuff that is often also labeled “garage rock,” “post-punk,” or “post-grunge,” on the count of a lot of it sticking to their ideals of artistic freedom; meaning, every pony making indie rock was able to play what they wanted, write songs about whatever they wanted, and not have to worry so much about pleasing some big wig, whose cutie mark was never anything to actually do with music, and them telling them it’s bad because it’s not selling tons of copies.
“I love it because it’s so different, and because are bands you can truly tell really care about making music, not what someone else tells them to do,” said Spike, who then did get excited when the book not only showed pictures of, but had more than just tiny blurbs about his favorite bands of all time, Death Clop for Cutie, Radiohoof, and My Morning Saddle. The young fillies then learned that, for a little bit, he tried to get into the stuff that personalities like DJ Pon3 played on her show, just it wasn’t very long that it just wasn’t doing it for him anymore. Needless to say, he was ecstatic to be going to the show at the club that gave new life to the long-closed paper mill; and now, he was even more so that he had three ponies that were going with him.
The following Saturday night, The Cutie Mark Crusaders walked from their homes and over to that of Twilight Sparkle where, while she is at the Palace and living there most of the time, Spike still lives there in an effort to keep it clean and hold down the fort. All three of the girls were excited to be checking out something that was very new to them, and somewhat alien. Be that as it may, though, and none of them would ever voice it to one another, they were all a little bit scared to be heading there, even though they were with Spike, who had been a close friend of theirs almost ever since she and Spike came to Ponyville. This fear stemmed solely from the fact that they were most likely going to stick out like sore thumbs at this concert on the count of not knowing any of their songs; more than that, though, they didn’t even know if they were supposed to dress a certain way or not. Fear or not, there was only one way to find out the answer to this.
“Hey, Spike, exactly how are you supposed to dress at one of these concerts?” Sweetie Belle, the girl of whom fashion was apparently supposed to be in her blood, asked the purple dragon with an obviously worried look now painted across her face. “I mean, does everybody do that, or is it just something that some people do? Or if we don’t will we be kicked out or something?”
“Oh no, nobody would ever kick you out for anything like that!” Spike did his best to comfort the younger of his wide circle of friends. “There is no way that you have to dress, at all. But, there is a way that a lot of ponies at these shows dress, and if you want to, I think I can figure out something that all three of you can wear, just in case you’re worried about looking too obvious that you’re new to all of this.”
With still enough cushions given to themselves in order to walk from Twilight Sparkle’s house and make it to the club before the doors opened, let alone the first band took the stage, Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Spike left right before seven thirty. Along the way, the dragon, dressed in a favorite pair of brown plaid pants, a Death Clop for Cutie shirt, black boots and a cool black fedora to boot, did his best to school the Cutie Mark Crusaders on the ins and outs of indie rock; how it started, some of the best bands to come along, and also how much it stank that The University of Equestria’s own radio station, which played nothing mainstream whatsoever, could not even be heard faintly over heavy static, wherever you were, in Ponyville.
“So, I wonder what Rarity would say about these clothes,” opined Sweetie Belle, who was donning a simple pair of gray slacks, a pair of blue shoes made of canvas that she’d never seen before, and a black and white flannel shirt over a shirt saying Horseshoes and Hand Grenades, which she just assumed was a band by the way that Spike insisted that she just “had” to wear it. Scootaloo went out wearing blue jeans, a red flannel, a red pair of the same canvas shoes, and a shirt for the band, One Horse Town. Apple bloom opted for red slacks, coupled with a pair of all black canvas shoes, and a black corduroy jacket framing a shirt from My Morning Saddle, of whom Spike played for them a little bit back at the house, and she’d taken a liking to.
“I don’t know, but I bet her eyes would bug out three times their size if she saw us right now,” joked Apple Bloom, who knew that one of her big sister’s best friends was sure to not consider this type of fashion sense (“or lack thereof,” she would say) to be one to look good on most anyone, and should generally be left to be worn by people who buy their clothes at Ponyville Work Wear Outlet, for ponies who did construction or other dirty jobs. Then again, Apple Bloom knew that Rarity, who spent the better part of her time either making or designing clothes, hobnobbing with high society types, or studying what is current in the fashion world, didn’t know the first thing about music of any genre, but was also quite indifferent to it as well.
None of the Cutie Mark Crusaders had ever seen anything like they were now dressed up like until the previous weekend when they found themselves spending almost all night out in the woods. But now, as they inched closer to the surprisingly tall brick building with a sign reading “THE SADDLE UP CLUB” now affixed to it, the trio was stunned to see just how many more ponies there were, even more than in the woods, and who obviously had the same idea as they and Spike. Getting there, they stood directly behind Derpy Hooves, who was enjoying a muffin and wearing a shirt under her flannel that read, “I WAS INTO EATING MUFFINS BEFORE THEY WERE COOL.”
Still, though, The Cutie Mark Crusaders knew that, even if they were with Spike, who was a long time fan of the genre, they knew next to nothing about it and therefore just wanted to lay low, listen to the music that the bands were going to play. After all, the book they read said, the indie rock scene prides itself on completely rejecting the fakeness and garbage that the mainstream music labels put out, and its bands made music that they truly wanted to. But what indie rockers hated more than the mainstream as a whole, was when ponies came in trying to dress like them, making a mockery by being at a place where they “don’t belong.” And for three young fillies who felt like that every day that they went to school, where they were regularly ridiculed for being “different” in their own rights, the last thing they needed was to get it again for being in such a place without knowing anything.
With twenty or so minutes to go before the first band, The Human Collective were due to take the stage, Spike made his way around, talking to a couple of friends of his from neighboring towns, and introducing his three younger friends to other ponies that thought it was so awesome that they were there, and hoped that they really loved the music. Taking a look around, two of the fillies saw an increasing number of the older ponies, some who had facial hair and probably needed the black-rimmed glasses that they were wearing, going up to the place where drinks were being served, ordering and receiving whatever it was in the same white and red cans with the blue circles on them. Getting closer to them, Scootaloo noticed that on the center, going through the blue circle, it read “Pinto Blue Circle.” Scootaloo then asked the pony at the counter about getting one of her own, but he served her a Dr. Thoroughbred soda in a dark red can, told her that she’d have to wait a few more years before she could have a PBC.
Just as the group of four took their spots at one of the tables facing the stage, the houselights went dark, causing everyone in the place to start cheering loudly. A spotlight flicked on, as did a few other lights of different colors which illuminated the stage that four ponies were now walking up. They introduced themselves, then launched into their first song, which caused most all of the older ponies to either set their cans of PBC down and get up to dance, or go to the stage and enjoy the set up close and personal while enjoying their grown-pony beverages.
The Human Collective and the second band, The Fleet Fillies each played about a forty-five minute set, with fifteen minute breaks between the two of them. The Colts came on and played about an hour, but then the last band, The Stable Fire, played on for almost two hours, making for a show that nobody, including the younger of the attendees wanted to ever end.
It seemed that most of the ponies there were the most excited to see The Stable Fire, but each of the other three bands were welcomed warmly, with the better part of the crowd wanting to stay after to talk to the various members, get photos and records signed, or just to hang out and have a PBC with them.
“So, how did you guys like the show?” Spike asked, who had brought his vinyl copy of “Neon Book” to get signed by the members of The Stable Fire, as well as his of the Fleet Fillies’ self-titled first album.
“Oh, it was so cool, and I think we all really loved the music!” exclaimed Sweetie Belle. The other two sincerely agreed with her and were all so glad that, now that they had enjoyed the show, they didn’t feel so much like outcasts anymore and, daringly, said that they felt like this was the kind of place where they could see themselves belonging. Little did they know, though, Apple Bloom, who wound up purchasing one record each from two of the bands and a shirt from The Stable Fire with her allowance money she’d earned from doing work almost every day out on the farm, had what she thought was a good idea brewing; even if the other two thought she had gone nuts.
The trio then walked with Spike over to the stage where two members of The Stable Fire were now talking to a few fans about whatever it was, signing record jackets and enjoying cans of PBC. Apple Bloom got one of her newly purchased records signed, got to tell the two band mates that the set was awesome, and that they had even seen them playing in the woods the past weekend. One of the members, the bass player, mentioned that they loved to play music in different kinds of places, or at least not the kinds of places any pony would expect to go to see a concert.
So far, no one had called any of the girls on the carpet for actually knowing nothing about the kind of music, or the fact that their friend, the dragon, had just shown them how to dress in preparation for the show. They thought they were home free, and they were just about to leave into the night not having suffered any humiliation. But then Spike, having never had had the problem with knowing when to say “when,” piped up by disclosing to the front pony of The Stable Fire, “You know, I wasn’t sure that these three were going to like what I was trying to get them into, but I am so glad they did. And I’m glad they came, because it’s more ponies that I’ve gotten into you guys’ music, which they knew nothing about ‘till tonight.”
All three of the young fillies’ hearts sunk; in any other crowd, where they knew that they wouldn’t be judged, anywhere but here or at school, they would have said something like that themselves. But now here is someone, who they always thought to be one of their closest friends and confidants, saying something like this who could belittle them as bad, if not worse, than bullies like Diamond Tiara.
“Hey, that’s cool, Spike!” said the bass player. “I mean, the problem today is that colts and fillies, especially when they are this age, just simply are so obsessed with fitting in, that they just blindly go and see what everyone else likes; how they dress, what they drink, how they talk, and what music they say is their absolute favorite, and that is that. But here you are, going and doing the right thing, showing these friends of yours that there is so much more out there than what they play on KPNY or the kind of stuff that everyone else around here will flock to the Ponyville Arena to see, because that’s what they’re ‘supposed to do.’”
“Yeah, and that’s what our families always teach us is the right thing to do,” added Apple Bloom. “I mean, all the other colts and fillies in our classes listen to KPNY, and they all dress one way because this is what ‘Filly’ magazine says is right, what trends are current and are what they ‘must’ follow. But when I hear all that music on the radio, I’m not in love with it, and neither are my friends. So, when we heard what was you guys playing in the woods last weekend, we all got excited that there is something different that we can get into besides the pop singers and the colt bands that are pretty much all KPNY play all the time. It’s just that none of know nothin’ about the music, and we didn’t want no one to throw us out or make fun of us just because we’re not like them!”
“Hey-a, Apple Bloom, is it?” replied the bass player, who introduced himself as Low Four. “That’s the nice thing about indie rock. This is a music that likes to be different than the stuff you hear on the radio, which is why your classmates are so afraid of it. As for people who bully you, that’s just because they don’t have a mind of their own, and their life is so empty that they have to fill it up by making others, like you three, feel bad about themselves.
And you know, all these Hoofsters here that come out to all of our shows, dress like this, and get mad when one of their favorite bands gets too popular, they might seem a little bit mean, but that’s just because they want to make sure that no one is here trying to mock them for what they like that is different than anyone else. So, as long as you are truly into wanting to get to know the music, and you’re not going to come here dressed like that and just be here to make fun of them and bands like us, then ponies like us will all welcome you in with open hooves.”
None of the four, even Spike, had ever heard the expression, “Hoofsters,” before, but it seemed like something pretty welcoming, whatever one had to do in order to become one. At the end of the night, when everyone who wanted one had their autographs signed, the bands were packing up their vans, and all the empty cans of PBC and Dr. Thoroughbred were picked up from the tables, Spike and all three Cutie Mark Crusaders left the venue pumped, happy, and feeling as if most, if not all, if their questions had been answered. It was right before any of them were about to hit the hay, staying the night at Twilight Sparkle’s house, that Apple Bloom just couldn’t hold what she needed to say.
“Girls! I got it! I think I figured out maybe why nothing has worked out for us to get our cutie marks. And it’s not because we’re not any good at all the stuff we’ve tried.” And with that, Apple Bloom realized, with a huge sigh of relief, that she wasn’t the only one that had been inspired that evening at The Saddle Up Club. That is, everyone was pretty much on the same track…sort of.
“Yeah, I do, too! I know what we’re supposed to get our cutie marks in, too…and it just came to me on the way home!”  
“That’s awesome, Scootaloo. I was just so scared to say anything, but I’m glad to know I’m not the only one I thought of that.”  
“Me either. I mean, who knew, all along, that we were meant to get our cutie marks in being Hoofsters.”  
“Hoofsters? Well, maybe we could be Hoofsters someday. But I was thinking that in order to get our cutie marks, what we really should have known we had to do all along was start an indie rock band!”
Nobody said anything, but soon after hit the hay. Hearing no objections or questioning, Apple Bloom was very confident that she’d hit the nail on the head, thus allowing her to drift off into sleep with a huge grin on her face.
Author's Note
Extra wubz if someone gets all of the band references in this chapter.