Anarchy in the Equestrian Nation

"What?"

I stared at the sorrowful owner of the Ravine Cafe, who, if my ears weren't decieving me, had just told me that the Ravine was going out of business.

"The cafe is going out of business. That stupid Starswirl's chain just opened a shop next door, and now everypony's buying from it. Nopony wants good coffee anymore, they're content with cheap corporate bullshit..." I tuned out her rant to try to contain my burning rage.

"WHAT!?" I roared, my face feeling like it was on fire. After a few minutes of ranting myself, I cooled off and started to think of ways to stop Starswirl's from taking over.

There was burning it down. No, that won't work.

There was always trying to sabotage business. We'll get caught.

Then it hit me.

Fundraiser concert.

I sat in the band's rehearsal room (better known as Six-String's attic), explaining the crisis the Ravine was in and why we needed to save it. Vagabond listened the most intently, as her job hung in the balance.

"Hold on." Six-String said, after I finished. "I was only supposed to be a replacement for Tear while he was in jail, but I don't want to leave the band. I'm afraid there's only one way to settle this."

"Rochambeau?" I asked jokingly.

"Guitar battle." Red answered simply.

"Great minds think alike, my student." Six-String smirked. The pegasus went downstairs to choose a guitar, and Red began to hook up his Telecaster, until he remembered what was in the guitar case he'd brought.

He snapped open the latches and opened the hard case, revealing the red Foaler Stratocaster that lay within. Red carefully lifted the guitar from its case and gave it an experimental strum. "Perfectly in tune." he stated. "But then again, you could use this thing for batting practice and probably wouldn't even have to retune it."

Red snatched the cable and rammed it into the output jack, strumming a few chords out to test the sound. He flicked off the amp and plugged his distortion pedal in, ready to face his opponent.

Six-String trotted up the stairs, carrying a Les Pony under his wing and wasted no time setting up his speaker, grabbing a wail pedal from inside a suitcase, and running the cord to the vintage instrument. His feathers found their place along the fretboard, ready for Red to do his worst.

( Over My Head (Guitar cover by Griffin Siats)  - Sum 41 ) Red Tear whipped out a pick and plucked out an intro before tearing into a heavy, distorted storm of riffs and chords, hammer-ons and pull-offs blending together as his wings moved in a flurry. Red looked up at his former teacher and smirked, a devious smile crossing his face as he began the solo. Once Red had completed his half of the battle, Six spun his guitar into place and tapped his chin with a hoof, as if thinking.

"Ah. Got it."

( Sweet Child O Mine (Guitar Solo) - Guns N Roses ) Six-String immediately picked up the ball, wailing on the Les Pony like crazy as he roared into a solo that impressed everypony in the room, even himself. The emotion in the music was quite present, the white pegasus leaning back and forth, raising his guitar, and thrashing his head in time with the music. Six-String didn't just play the music, it was clear he felt it too. Once finished with the spectacular solo, both Tear and Six-String turned to me for judgment.

"I can't judge either solo. They're of two different styles. They can't be compared." I said, more than a little annoyed at not being able to pick a winner right there. "We'll have to do it head to head, same style, same notes. Manga, you provide bass, Vagabond, get on the drums. We have a bandmate to pick."

( Rage Against the Machine - Killing in the Name Of (Guitar cover) ) The other two members found their places at the drums and bass, and I dropped a guitar cleaning cloth onto the floor to signal the start.

And start it did. Both sides immediately began, blasting heavy distorted chords, playing in sync, each bound to the same rules. I could tell that despite his experience, Six-String was nervous. He was used to playing classic rock, and he was a fish out of water playing punk. Sweat beaded on Six-String's forehead as he noticed a couple of squeaks in his playing that didn't slip my notice, but neither did a few coming from Red's. Desperate, Six-String broke into a solo about four minutes in, determined to stay a member of 42 Pickup.

It didn't work. The B and high E strings broke from trying to play them too high when the guitar was already tuned higher than Red's, making a horrible *TWANG* and flying off of the fretboard, one nearly slashing his cheek. Six-String flicked off his amp, and for a second I expected him to call it cheating or call for a rematch, but he simply let it slide.

"Why are you forfeiting? You could have won that had you called for a retry." Manga asked angrily, apparently rooting for Six-String.

"It was my fault the string snapped.  I didn't take the time before the battle to tune the guitar a couple of octaves lower." Six-String answered frankly, reaching into his Les Pony's hard case to grab a spare set of B and high E strings. He turned to his former student. "Well done, Red. Ya beat me. I'm proud of you, I truly am."

Red was wrapped in a group hug before he got the chance to say anything to his teacher. When he did, he wasn't boasting or saying he lost like we expected him to. "After six years, I finally manage to show up my teacher in a guitar battle. Took damn well long enough, but the day came."

"It was a fluke, Red. My strings broke, otherwise your ass would've been grass." Six-String joked, twisting the tuning peg to get the string on. "But I'll cut you some slack. You've wanted to be part of a band for years, and now you have that chance."

While the two traded harsh-sounding words, the camaraderie between Red and Six-String was evident, and the two even wing-fived before letting Six-String get back to re-stringing his Les Pony. "Oh, and by the way, about that fundraiser concert, try the Muffin Factory. It's really popular, and since you know Ditzy and I, they'll be a little more open to the idea once they realize we support it."

"What do you mean?" Vagabond inquired curiously, looking downstairs at Ditzy and then back at Six-String.

"I mean, we're their most frequent customers. They know that if we support it and they reject the idea, they'll lose their highest paying patrons."

"You are one crafty bastard, Six." Red remarked. "Genius plan."

We waved goodbye and headed to our next destination of the day, the Muffin Factory.