NO NO NO NO NO WE HATE HIM WE ALL HATE HIM GOSH DARNIT NO JUST DON'T
Despite being home to an elite troupe of four musicians, Room Two-Oh-Six had almost forgotten the sound of music. It was, however, quite familiar with the sound of Octavia Pizzicato talking bullshit.
The door slammed open, and Octavia barged in. “I’m in love!” she yelled. “I’m in love again! With Discord!”
There were three ponies in the room. Their names were Frederick Horseshoepin, Parish Nadermane, and Beauty Brass, but in Two-Oh-Six, you were named after the instrument you didn’t play anymore.
Piano was smoking a cigarette. Harp was sitting on the ground, playing pattycake with his shadow. Sousa was taking photos of Harp.
Octavia was smiling a smile that, if recorded, would have caused lens flare.
It was moments like these when ponies discover who was born to lead, and who was born to complain about the leaders. When life throws a glove at your hooves, some ponies accept the challenge and others wonder why someone would throw such a pretty glove away.
Sousa just took another photo, and then Octavia’s words finally reached her brain and she wasn’t sure how to respond. Harp merely clapped, and returned the smile to Octavia.
But Piano? Piano reacted like a stallion you would follow to battle. Piano demonstrated that, if society were to crumble, it would be fellows like him who would rebuild it.
Octavia Pizzicato was the kind of pony who would buy a hamster with the sole purpose of sticking it up her asshole and then later wonder where her life went so astray. Piano knew this better than anypony else.
So when Octavia kept talking and explained she’d actually got engaged to the guy whose name had replaced the word “turd” in the dictionary, Harp and Sousa were confused and scared, respectively. But not Piano – he just took the cigarette from his lips, the smoke dancing lazily around his face, and looked upon Octavia with fatherly eyes.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH,” he calmly stated. “AAAAAAAAAAAH. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.”
“Well,” Sousa said, sipping her drink. “I don’t know, Octavia. Discord is a little… How to put this. Unorthodox?”
“He’s the empirical proof that the universe does methamphetamines,” Piano said. “He’s like the nightmares after seeing your father jack off.”
They’d moved to a pub for better arguing. The place was half-empty, ponies of all ages and races getting in and out with the lazy walk of the morning. Their table had enough privacy.
Sousa raised her glass at Piano. “Pretty much, yes.”
“Aw, come on, guys! You’re exaggerating! Do you really need to be like this?”
Harp talked then, with a voice like cherries falling on a field of whipped cream. “I’m so happy for you, Octavia!” he said, big eyes sparkling. “Finding love again is great!”
“I knoooow!” Octavia grabbed Harp’s hooves and giggled. “He’s just so smart and charismatic! I told him about you guys, and he says he wants to meet you!”
“That is amazing!” Harp shook her hooves up and down. “He sounds wonderful!”
There was something interesting about Harp. Sousa hadn’t been named Beauty Brass for no reason, Piano had a really deep voice and great eyes, and Octavia was unable to spend more than two days without a lover. But it was Harp who could steal any heart.
His eyes were the size of watermelons. He jumped around when he got excited, and wagged his tail without a trace of irony. He had a smile that could bring dead goldfish back to life. He genuinely thought everypony was great, and found joy in everyday activities.
He was an adult pony—the oldest one in Two-Oh-Six, in fact—who routinely giggled.
And he made it work.
As such, Piano and Sousa chose to ignore him, and concentrate their efforts on Octavia. One couldn’t argue with Harp. It would be like boxing a toddler.
“Smart.” Sousa looked at Octavia, then at Piano. “You said he’s smart. And charismatic.”
“Yeah!”
“Octavia Pizzicato.” Piano, who was sitting under a giant NO SMOKING, PLEASE sign, took a puff of his cigarette. His voice was like the bark of a racist dalmatian in a zebra convention. “Canterlot has a population of around one hundred thousand ponies, with a diet heavy on fiber and sugary pastries. And yet, describing Discord as ‘charismatic’ is still more full of shit than our sewer system. The guy started as a genocidal megalomaniac, and then he got worse.”
“Now, Piano!” Harp made a huff. “You’re being mean! He’s good now, right?”
“Well, he’s not trying to kill anypony, I guess.” Piano nodded at Harp. “So I give you that. Now, small tidbit: he’s still an almost all-powerful dipshit. Three days ago he took my eyesight.”
There was moment of silence. The sound of the bartender cleaning some glasses back there at the counter filled the air.
Sousa blinked and leaned on the table. “Beg your pardon?”
“Hmm. My eyesight?”
“Yes?”
“He took it. For three days. Three fucking days.” He clapped. “Poof. Hahah! You’re blind now! TOODLE-O!”
“Oh.” Sousa looked at Octavia, who shrugged. “I… see?”
“You do? Funny. I sure fucking didn’t!” Piano took another puff. “I mean, he saw me playing jazz in this Charity for the Foals gig I got, and thought, ‘hey, you know what would be funny? Leaving that pony blind for three days! I’m sure this crowd of fucking toddlers will get the reference!’”
The three ponies looked at Octavia. And even she, who had more eyelashes than neurons, understood what they were silently asking:
What do you choose? Your friends, or your lover? Which is more important?
“Weeell,” she said, scratching the back of her neck. “Maybe he’s changed now that he’s with me?”
Piano gave her a warm smile. “Octavia?”
“Yes?”
“Suck my dick.”
“I can’t help but side with Piano on this one,” Sousa added, finishing up her drink. “I don’t really approve of this, Octavia. I don’t really believe one can turn good so easily. He could still bring the end of the world as we know it with a snap of his fingers.”
“Well, I think we’re being unfair!” Harp crossed his front legs and looked at them. “We should give them a chance. Maybe Discord is a good guy! We need to be supportive; Octavia is our friend!”
“Yeah! Exactly!” Octavia slammed the table. “I knew Harp would agree with me! You need to have more faith, guys—love always finds a way!”
“Love always finds a way to my asshole!”
“Piano!” Harp tried to frown. He actually tried to frown. With his face. “You’re not being nice! Octavia is right, you need to have more faith!” He shook his head. “I will support you completely, Octavia. You have my vote! What if we all have dinner together, and you introduce him to us?”
“Oh, Harp! Really?” She hugged him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!” Without letting him go, she looked at Sousa and Piano. “What about you, guys? Will you come to the dinner, too?”
Sousa sighed. “Well, we—”
“Of course we’ll come,” Piano said, smashing his cigarette against the ashtray. “Both of us.”
“Oh, I’m so happy!”
A groan. “Don’t be. I still hate Discord’s guts. The only reason I’m going is for him.” He pointed at Harp, who was beaming at them like a little kid. “Adorable son of a bitch. I want to tuck the shit out of you and then give you a glass of warm milk. I love you so fucking much.”
Harp giggled. “Thanks!”
“Yeah. Nothing much we can do when Harp has already decided.” Sousa ran a hoof through her mane and got up. “It’s unfair.”
“Heheheh. Thank you, guys.” Octavia smiled. “It means a lot to me.”
Piano squinted. “Oh, fuck you.”
Piano squinted harder. “Oh, fuck me.”
The restaurant was fancy, even for Canterlot standards. The walls were all covered in velvet, and the waiters all spoke Pfrench and served disgusting food. You needed a reservation months in advance to even get through the door, and no matter what you did, or how you did it, at least one pony in the restaurant would be classy enough to get offended.
The Two-Oh-Sixers fit in perfectly.
“Piano, my mother always says that every time you swear, Princess Luna loses a feather.”
“Terrific. She can pick them all up, make a bed, and lay on it when she fucks herself. I’m not saying ‘ponyfeathers’, Sousa.” A snarl. “I am not neutered.”
“You’re so charming sometimes.”
Harp giggled. “You’re grumpy today, Piano! Is it because you can’t smoke?”
“No.” Piano pointed. “It’s because Princess Twilight is here.”
“Oh? Really? Where?” Sousa had to wiggle a little, as they were sitting in such a way Piano was blocking her sight. “I can’t—oh! Oh, there she is! My, she’s beautiful.”
“She’s a pain in the ass is what she is,” Piano muttered. “Princess Twilight is never good news, guys.”
Harp frowned as he looked at him. “Why are you saying that? I like Princess Twilight. She’s nice!”
“You like someone. Color me fucking impressed.” Piano sighed, and rubbed the space between his eyes. “Look, I have nothing against her personally, but she’s a bad omen. Dogshit magnet. She’s always there whenever freaky goes on. Why do you think Celestia kicked her to that redneck town?”
“Eeeh. Aren’t you getting that wrong?” Sousa asked. “She appears when weird stuff happens, not the opposite. And she tends to save the day. So rather, be thankful she stops the weird stuff.”
“I’d be more thankful if there was no weird stuff from the get-go. This? This is thanking somepony for his tourniquet skills after his pet bear bites off your leg. Glad you saved my life, buddy, mighty thankful for that, but next time don’t bring a fucking bear with you.”
Harp was looking at them, but said nothing. Sousa sighed. “You’re still missing the point.”
“Either way, shit’s about to go down if the Princess is here. Does it even matter if I’m making a point or not? ”
“Well, on a practical level it doesn’t, sure. But you’re—”
“Look.” Piano rested a hoof on Sousa’s shoulder. “Let’s just hope she stays away from us, okay? That mare is the harbinger of dogshit. Fucking bad omen. I wouldn’t be surprised if she slept on a grave. Little kids talk in ancient tongues when she walks by. I’m fucking sure she screams at the threshold of whoever is about to die.”
Harp pointed. “Hey! She’s coming here!”
“Well. Fucka-doodle-do. Ain’t that just the best.” He looked up with the air of a stallion who has accepted life has no meaning. “Why, hello, Princess Twilight, your Highness. Mighty nice day we’re having.”
“Um.” Princess Twilight shot them an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, but… This is table number thirteen, right? I’m afraid I was supposed to meet with a…” Her face darkened “…friend in here. Are you perhaps with Discord?”
“Sadly, yes. Technically.” Sousa reached a hoof towards the Princess. Her smile was more genuine, it lit up her face. “We’re here for his girlfriend, this is supposed to be the evening where we meet him formally.”
“Then I think I will share the evening with you!” Princess Twilight took Sousa’s hoof and shook it. “I hope I’m not a bother. My name is Princess Twilight.”
Harp giggled, and it sounded like angel wings. It was adorable. “We know! I’m Parish Nadermane. She is Beauty Brass, and the gentlecolt with nihilism all over his face is Frederick Horseshoepin. Piano, move to the side so the princess can sit down there.”
Twilight frowned as Piano moved aside with a grumble. “I thought you said his name was Frederick?”
“We’re Two-Oh-Six,” Sousa said. “We don’t really use our names with each other.”
“Oh. Uh. Okay?” Twilight sat down. “That makes sense. So you’re the famous Two-Oh-Six? You were playing at my first Grand Galloping Gala!”
“You remember us? That’s so sweet!”
“Absolutely,” Piano said. His throat ached, but Sousa had forced him to leave the cigarettes at home, so he had to make do with just being miserable. “So. How’s the day going, Princess? Any rivers turned to blood after you drank? Cubs with two heads being born upon your arrival? Crows following you down the street, echoing your every word?”
Sousa elbowed him on the ribs. “Piano. She’s royalty.”
“Actually, my friend Fluttershy has been dealing with a fair amount of bicephalous mutations in Ponyville’s wildlife as of late!” Princess Twilight chirped. “Probably due to the excessive inbreeding—it’s starting to become an issue around there.”
Piano scoffed. “Woah. Even the pests are rednecks there.”
“Piano!”
Harp pouted. Kitties everywhere felt a sudden rush of jealousy, as if they weren’t good enough anymore. “Take that back! The Princess is a good pony!”
“Naaah, I’m just messing around.” He winked at Sousa, whose face had turned bright red. “I’m sorry, Princess, that was really disrespectful on my behalf. I’m just grumpy today. Tobacco withdrawal. I really meant no offense.”
The smile never left Twilight’s lips. “Don’t worry, I know that this situation is a little stressful. Your friend just hooked up with Discord, after all. That can be really something.”
“We’ll have a stern talk when we get home, Piano,” Sousa muttered, still blushing, before turning towards the Princess. “I’m really, really sorry, Princess. So… You’re here because of Discord?”
The smile became strained. Twilight wore the eyes of an accountant looking to avenge the death of his wife. “Yes,” she said. “Because of him. We are…”
The pause lasted five seconds.
“…Friends,” she finally spat. “We’re friends. I’m here because I’m his friend. We formed a book club. It’s really fun.”
“Well, I think that’s just great!” Harp said. “I’m sure the evening will be amazing. Octavia told me Discord was—”
But sadly, whatever Octavia told Harp remained forever a mystery, for his words were hastily interrupted.
Interrupted by romance.
Cherry blossoms falling from the ceiling, a thousand candles popping out of nowhere, shaped like little pegasi shooting love arrows. Pink sparks, glitter, the scent of horse pheromones. Three mariachi rose from Table Seven, their giant sombreros glistening majestically under the candlelight
The main door burst open.
“DISCORD! MON CHÉRI!”
“Yyyyy nos dieeeron las dieeeez y las ooooonceeeeee.”
The kitchen door exploded into heart-shaped chocolate pieces.
“OCTAVIA! AMADA MÍA!”
“Las doce y la uuuuuna y las dooooos y las treeeeeees.”
“Oh my fucking Luna.” Piano’s voice was weak, like the words of a dying pony. “Oh my fucking Luna.”
Discord had a moustache. A gigantic moustache. The kind of moustache that makes mothers hug their children tightly. He had pectorals the size of Harp’s head, biceps that defied euclidean laws, and even though his entire body was covered in fur, he still managed to show off some chest hair through the opening of his white shirt. He had long, shiny hair, floating as if gravity was less a law and more a suggestion.
“COME TO ME, MY LOVE!” he yelled in a deep baritone. “COME TO ME AND LET US ENJOY THE TASTE OF OUR PASSION!”
“OH, DISCORD!” Octavia wore the kind of black dress that made washed-up stallions rediscover their faith, and the lipstick of a mare who could kill you and make you say thank you. “OUR LOVE IS FORBIDDEN,” and her voice had a hint of foreign spice, “BUT IT’S THE SHORTER CANDLES WHICH BURN THE BRIGHTEST!”
“Y desnudos al anochecer nos encontróoooo la lunaaaaaaa.”
The lovers ran towards each other. When they hugged, the shockwave of glitter and passion broke the windows and shook the tables.
Then they made out.
There were schlorp schlorp noises.
It took Sousa a couple seconds to fight the nausea. Piano was completely covered in glitter, and Harp was clapping and cheering. Princess Twilight was just staring at the scene, left eye twitching.
“Okay.” Sousa swallowed. “They are. Um. They’re passionate. That is… good?”
Princess Twilight talked through gritted teeth. “Yes,” she said. “It’s not. Bad. It’s. Perfectly normal. Believable. Charming.”
“I think I have brain cancer now,” Piano said.
“Hello, Octavia!” Harp waved both hooves in the air and yelled loud enough to make himself heard above the music. “We’re here! Hello! We’re here!”
“Guys! You came!” Octavia rushed towards the table and gave each of them a quick hug. “Thank you so much! Here, this is Discord.” She put a hoof on his chest and looked at him dreamily. “He has the most beautiful eyes, doesn’t he?”
Discord’s eyes looked like daltonic fried eggs. His face was covered in lipstick, and he made it look like warpaint. He waved at them, and smirked at Twilight. “Why, hello, Princess. I’m glad to see you had time to come here and appreciate my romance.”
Twilight’s teeth were in serious danger of shattering to pieces. “Always. A pleasure. Discord.”
“Here, darling, sit—oh, wait a second.” Octavia spat out a bit of hair. “Heheh, whoops. Let’s sit down, Discord, honeypie.”
“Absolutely,” Discord said. “Cherryboo.”
They sat down at the same time, lovingly gazing into each other’s eyes, getting lost in the infinite subtleties of their irises. Discord’s pectorals were throbbing to the beat of his heart, like drums making love. Octavia’s lips were puckered, her eyelashes fluttering like drunk butterflies.
Piano made a point out of looking at the wall, and only at the wall. “Do we really need to be here? If I want to feel repulsed and ashamed, I deepthroat my father.”
“Oh, don’t be such a drag, Piano!” Octavia slapped his foreleg, but still didn’t manage to make the stallion turn around. “We’ll have such a wonderful time! Discord is incredibly funny; aren’t you, chocolate pudding?”
“Why, yes!” Discord said. “I’d say I’m really humerus myself!”
Conversation died for a second. Octavia giggled.
Piano saw his friends’ faces and squinted. “He just turned into a bone,” he whispered. “He just turned into a fucking bone, didn’t he.”
“Yes.”
“This dinner is officially worse than polio.”
The highlights of the evening included Discord explaining that he was going to burst with happiness while turning into a bubble, and everypony at the table begging for the sweet, merciful release of death.
“I’m so, so sorry for what we just went through,” Princess Twilight said. “My head still hurts.”
If one had felt the urge to give it a name, Two-Oh-Six would have said this was the afterparty. The four victims of that horrible dinner were sitting at a table on a terrace, trying to drink away their memories. The sun was setting, and both kids and adults were outside, trying to enjoy the last hours of light.
A passing filly suddenly stopped and stared at Twilight intensely, her eyes empty. “EMOC LLIW GNINOKCER FO EMIT EHT,” she said, her voice deeper than Hell itself. “DLROW SIHT NOPU ETSAW YAL OHW UOY, SSENKRAD FO SSECNIRP HO.”
“Hmm?” Twilight looked at the kid, smiled, and patted her head. “Aw, hello there!”
“TSOL EB LLIW SAW ECNO HCIHW LLA DNA, TSRUB LLIW NUS EHT, EID LLIW SRATS EHT. DLO FO EUGNOT EHT KAEPS LLIW SWORC. ERIFLLEH NI NRUB LLIW SPORC EHT.”
Twilight giggled. “I’m glad to hear that! Now go and play with your friends.” She waved at the filly. “Go, go, go!” She turned towards the table. “They’re so cute.”
Sousa watched the filly walk away with jerky, uneven movements. Like a puppet being hastily tugged away, muttering something like ‘dies iudicii erit, oh regina extasis, quae mundum eradicat’, whatever that meant.
“Huh,” she said. “What just happened?”
“Oh, I don’t know. They do that, sometimes, when they see me.”
“They? Who? Kids?”
Princess Twilight shrugged. “Kids, sweet grandmothers, comatose ponies… I’m really popular with the ‘free-of-sin’ subculture, for some reason. Anyway…” She sighed. “At risk of repeating myself, I’m sorry for what happened at the restaurant. Discord has never been easy to deal with, but that was really something.”
Sousa shook her head, and made sure to kick Piano under the table—he was grinning at her, and she was not going to allow that—before talking. “There’s no reason to apologize, Princess. Octavia was as responsible as Discord. One can’t tango alone.”
“Yeah!” Harp said. He was drinking some juice out of a drinking straw. It was the kind of picture that ends up becoming the cover of a best-selling calendar. “We’re really used to this by this point. Octavia is great, but she’s in love with the idea of being in love.”
This got Princess Twilight’s attention. “Oh? Really?”
“It’s a really polite way to say Octavia’s brain is like a ladybug’s fart,” Piano elaborated, shooting another grin at Sousa—and getting kicked—before lighting another cigarette and taking a satisfied puff. “What little of it you notice is surprisingly disgusting.”
“He means she’s a little bit of an idiot,” Sousa said when Princess looked at her. “We still love her, though.”
“A little bit?” Piano winked at Sousa. “Princess, why do you think we call her Octavia and not Cello?”
“I assumed she wasn’t part of Two-Oh-Six.”
“Oh, she is,” Sousa said. “She’s definitely part of Two-Oh-Six. She’s just—we don’t think she can handle juggling two names, you see.”
Piano nodded and took another puff. “Lovely mare,” he said. “But she likes dogs because they don’t recognize themselves in mirrors either. And you can tell this by the way she’s dating the worst monster in existence.”
“But we still support her no matter what she does,” Harp said, drinking from his straw. “Because we’re friends, and we want her to be happy!”
Twilight smiled. Usually she would have trouble doing so after the dinner she’d sat through, but it was easy smiling around Harp. “Aw, that’s so sweet. It almost makes me feel guilty.”
“Guilty?” Harp cocked his head to the side. “How come?”
“Well, it’s just… I don’t think I can really support Discord on this.” She shook her head and sighed. “Part of me believes he’s doing this just to annoy me. We argued about romance the other day, you see? I’m reading a book that, aheheheh, it, um.” Coy smile. “It’s about the subject, let’s say. I really like it, but Discord said it was stupid, and irritating. I said he didn’t understand what romance was about, and…” She made a face. “Well, then he got a girlfriend. Checkmate, I guess.”
Piano’s ears perked up. “Wait a second. You mean Discord might be doing this because you’re reading a trashy book? Just to irritate you?”
Princess Twilight blinked. “I… guess?”
“Harp!” Piano turned his head so hard he became a blur. “Did you hear that?!”
Harp wasn’t pouting, but his smile was gone. He was serious. “Yes. Princess Twilight? This is serious. Do you think Discord might not love Octavia at all?”
“Wh—how can that be? Octavia loves him too, right?” She looked at Sousa, then at Harp, then at Piano. “That means his feelings are genuine!”
Sousa was scratching her forehead. “Princess?”
“Yes?”
“Why exactly do you think his feelings are genuine? Can you please explain it as if I was four?”
Princess Twilight had to think about this for a moment.
“Well…” she eventually said, as the blush creeped up her face, “I assumed Octavia really loved Discord, because she kissed him. And, uh, when you love somepony and that somepony loves you back, you feel it, right?” She was bright red now. “In, your. Um. In your… chest… Because you know that he’s your soulmate...”
Silence ate her words slowly but surely.
Sousa got up. Her face was perfectly expressionless. “So. Just to be clear. The only reason why we are led to believe Discord is not playing with Octavia—who is the easiest mare to seduce in the whole world—just to mess with you, is that you think love works like in trashy novels. Right?”
Princess Twilight had been reduced to a crimson, stuttering mess. “Hmm-hmm.”
Sousa nodded. “Okay. Harp?”
Harp’s eyes were sparkly as always, but those weren’t sparks of happiness. “We can’t let him use Octavia like this!” he said. “We have to—REFFUS LLAHS OUY NOOS ROF EID DNA TNEPER.” He blinked, his eyes and voice went back to normal. “Uh. What?”
Twilight gave him an embarrassed smile. “Whoops. Sorry!”
Roses floating on the lake. Boats shaped like swans. Fireworks against the twilight, kids playing and laughing whimsically. Almost the perfect view.
Schlorp, schlorp. Nuzzle. Schlorp.
Almost.
“All right, fuck-face, you can stop honoring that name!” Piano yelled.
Schlorp?
Sousa rested a hoof on his shoulder. “Piano, no. They’re kissing. That’s kissing.”
“Oh. Are they? I really don’t understand Discord’s anatomy.”
“Piano! Sousa!” Hell hath no fury, and Octavia’s face certainly showed that. She pulled away from Discord and faced the Two-Oh-Sixers. Not Harp, though. Harp was way behind them, suffering seizures next to Twilight. “What are you two doing?!”
Piano grinned. It wasn’t a friendly grin. It was the grin of a rock musician alone in an expensive hotel room. “Saving you from yourself, is what I’m doing. That imbecile isn't good for you. Harp—”
“Oh, but what do we have here?” Discord didn’t fly; he floated. He moved through the air like a snake moves through water. His smile was almost bigger than his moustache. Almost. “Is somepony perhaps jealous?”
“The fuck would I be jealous about.”
This made Discord blink. “Excuse me?”
“What my friend means,” Sousa said, pushing Piano aside and facing Discord eye-to-eye, “is that we know you’re not being honest with Octavia. And we’re her friends, so—”
“Oh, this is precious!” Discord laughed out loud—a baritone laugh that couldn’t sound more fake if it said Citizen Mane was its favorite movie—and then flicked Sousa’s muzzle. “You little ponies are afraid for your friend? Don’t make me laugh!” He laughed again, denying them any chance to prove their worth, and pressed Octavia against his chest. “You’re just jealous of our love!”
“The fuck would we be jealous about.”
“Piano, please.” Sousa looked past Discord. “Octavia, Discord is just using you to get some petty revenge on Princess Twilight. He—”
“Petty revenge!” Discord fake-fainted so hard he made a loop in midair. “Why, that’s just preposterous, isn’t it? I’m just living an innocent love story, full of passion and sentiment, and Princess Twilight belittles me with poisonous words? For shame, Princess! For shame!”
Octavia barged in. “Discord!” she said, passionately.
He turned around, eyes sparkling. “Octavia!” he replied, sweetly.
Snow falling around them as they hugged. Sad violin music, composed by a pony whose family had been murdered in an onion factory. A background full of red and black, the moon shining above them, reflecting on Discord’s majestic chest hair, his ripped, marble-like muscles hard against Octavia’s soft curves.
“Discord, my love!” Octavia said, octavialy. Pouted lips, gigantic eyes, eyelashes long as spaghetti. “Oh, light of my eyes, the passions I’ve awoken in my past life are back from the grave to haunt us!”
“But worry not, my dear! I will fight them all, and defend our love!”
Piano had to physically wipe the romance off his face. “I swear to fucking Celestia, pony Hell is empty.”
“EXTASIS REGINA! EXTASIS REGINA! DNAL EHT KLAW SNOMED EHT!”
“Not that way, Harp! Sweet merciful fuck, why did we even bring the Princess here?”
“Octavia, don’t be an idiot.” Sousa did her best to avoid looking at Discord. “He’s just using you. We're not going to force you to break up with him, but—”
“Tut, tut, tut, lady!” Discord let Octavia go and faced Sousa with all his surprisingly menacing figure. He even crossed his arms. “If you want to talk to my fair lady, you should defeat me first, hmmm?”
Sousa blinked. “Defeat you?”
“Why, of course! A duel of intellects! A test of skill! You’re a musician, girl.” A snap of the fingers, and a golden fiddle appeared in his paws. A precious instrument, polished to perfection, reflecting sunlight even though the moon had been up for a while now. “You know how this works.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake—HEY, YOU DIPSHIT! NOBODY GETS WHAT THE FUCK YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!”
“Piano, shush.” Sousa, the pony who was nicknamed after a sousaphone, looked at the fiddle and fell in love. “Grownups talking.”
“Hmm-hm-hmmm. I recognize those eyes.” Discord’s wicked smile was literally larger than his face. He snapped his fingers again, and a normal fiddle appeared in front of Sousa. “You want it. So, do we have a deal? You win, you keep the golden fiddle and I break up with Octavia.”
A pause. All the way back, Twilight frowned. “Isn’t that a little bit disrespectful towards Octavia? You should at least ask for her opinion to—”
“That is so romantic!” Octavia yelled.
“Right, yes. Idiot. I forgot.”
Sousa swallowed. “And if I lose?”
“Oh, my dear Beauty Brass. If you lose?” Discord’s laugh lost all its goofiness. “If you lose, we’ll have some fun.”
Sousa looked at Discord. He was immortal. He had probably been practicing for millions of years, while she only had a little bit of general knowledge that came from her years studying the sousaphone.
“Oh, shoot. Can’t be that much of a difference.”
And so, she picked up the fiddle, and the contract was sealed.
Tale as old as time. Two musicians, one against one, in a duel of skill. It was going to be like in the songs elder ponies liked to sing. They raised the fiddles. They were going to have…
“A dance-off!” Discord yelled, opening his arms towards the sky. “The most noble of competitions!"
Confetti fell from the clouds. A party horn went crazy in the background. He snapped his fingers, and a green onesie appeared on his body. The earth shook and rumbled. A crack appeared in the middle of the street. Ponies screamed in horror and wonder.
From the depths of Hell rose a boxing ring.
“The most noble of stages!”
Sousa, who was now rocking a red onesie, cracked her neck, jumped in, and glared at the draconequus. “I’ll save Octavia and get that golden fiddle, both in one fell swoop!”
“Hahah! Big words!” Discord clapped twice, and a bass-heavy melody made itself heard. It was the kind of song that made one think about tacky clothes and illegal substances, more a beat than actual music. “Let’s see if you can put your money where your mouth is!”
Thump, thump, thump, thump. The song increased its volume as the crowd started to cheer. Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.
“Well, at least the music is good,” Princess Twilight said. She, alongside Piano and Harp, had found a seat on the benches that had popped up next to the ring. An impromptu crowd was filling them up around them, getting excited. “Sounds exactly like one would expect a dance-off to—”
“Yyyyy nos dieeeron las dieeeez y las ooooonceeeeee.”
“Okay, never mind.”
The lights dimmed out. Sousa and Discord stared at each other. To the centre of the stage walked Octavia, dressed in a way that made it clear nopony had ever told her referee uniforms didn’t have glitter on them.
She raised a hoof. The crowd went silent. The tension was through the roof.
“Thump-a thump-a thump-a las doce y la uuuuuna y las dooooos y las treeeeeeees thump-a thump-a.”
“Alright, everypony!” she yelled. “The dance-off begins…!”
Pause for effect.
“...NOW!”
And they danced.
Oh, they danced.
Discord moved like a spastic eel trying to shock its own butt. Like a coked-up hose with incontinence problems. It was a blur of physics-defying madness and tap-dancing.
Sousa kinda swung her hips.
Discord stood on his own head and twirled around, his legs popped off and waltzed in midair. Four torches appeared and he juggled them with his tail. Sparks flew around him.
Sousa bobbed her head to the beat.
The song got more intense. Discord kicked it up a notch. History got rewritten every time he thrust his hips. Stallions got pregnant. The moon exploded in party flavors. His abnormally high levels of funk warped reality itself. Crows spoke in the tongue of old. The crops burned, beasts with two heads were born. The Gates of Eternity burst open, and demons walked free on the land. All around Equestria, children woke in fear. “THE PROPHECY!” they cried. “THE PROPHECY!”
Meanwhile, Sousa twirled once and said “woo!”
The sky became red. The whispers of the dead became heard. Xipe Totec, the Night Drinker, the God of Plagues, awoke and screamed to the heavens. Sousa twirled a second time.
And then the song ended.
The two dancers stood on the stage, looking at each other. They both were panting, and covered in sweat.
Around them, silence.
Then the crowd lost it.
Cheering, clapping, screaming. The kids were laughing and jumping around. The young couples were schlorpling. The old couples were making plans for when the kids went to sleep. The electromariachi threw their hats up in glee.
And Octavia’s eyes filled with tears. “Absolutely beautiful!” she yelled, hugging them both. “Astounding! Incredible! I loved it!”
The crowd cheered even louder, and for a minute or two nopony could understand a thing. Octavia just hugged Discord and Sousa even harder. “This means so much to me, guys!”
“Ahahah. Yes, yes. So!” When everypony calmed down, Discord gently pushed Octavia away and then sneered at Sousa. “Who won, my dear?”
“Oh, I have no idea!”
Silence.
Discord took it relatively well. Only his left eye flinched. “Excuse me?”
“I said I have no idea!”
“I—I’m sorry. Did you miss the part where I danced so well I broke reality and brought forth the end of the world? Without missing a beat?” His smile was extremely polite and kind with badly contained anger. “While she bobbed her head?”
“Right! That was amazing, too!” Octavia giggled and clapped twice. “I really really liked it! I didn’t get it, but I liked it!”
“Then why on Equestria don’t you—”
“Because I’m not the referee, silly!” She giggled. “I just like this outfit.”
“Right,” Sousa said, panting even harder. She had been dancing too hard, she could feel it in her muscles—but she stood still. She wouldn’t pass out, not now. “The referee couldn’t be Octavia, she’s not the right mare for the job. No, we needed the pony with the best judgement in Canterlot. The one who is always, always objectively right. Even when he’s wrong.”
No more words were needed.
On cue, the entire crowd turned around to look at exactly the same stallion.
Harp waved back.
“Him?” Discord asked. “Really now?”
Harp giggled. The crowd stared in anticipation. “Yeah!” he said. “And I think both of you were great!”
The crowd cheered.
“But…” he continued once they all calmed down. “While Discord’s dance was really, really good, I think Sousa really gave it her all here! She doesn’t really know how to dance,” he continued. “And I know she’s really shy. This was a big step for her! So I say she’s the winner.”
“WHAT?!” In the blink of an eye, Discord was in front of Harp, glaring him down. “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, YOU IDIOT?! I’M CLEARLY THE WINNER HERE! SHE BARELY DID ANYTHING!”
The words echoed.
The house after your children move out. The forest after a big fire. The five seconds between the “will you marry me” and the “no.”
All of those silences paled in comparison to the absolute quietness that fell over the boxing ring.
Piano was the one who broke it, and his voice was like ice cracking. “Did you,” he muttered, “just insult Harp?”
It was then that Discord realized he would have to plan this answer really, really carefully.
Sousa got room Two-Oh-Six in the hospital, probably thanks to a certain Princess who called in a favor. Piano, Octavia, and Harp went there to visit as soon as the doors opened the next day.
“Aaaw. You brought me flowers? How sweet!” Sousa could barely move. Her muscles had been put to their limits; she would never dance again. In fact, she was lucky she could walk after what she’d done. The golden fiddle rested on her bedside table. “Thank you, guys.”
“Least we could do,” Piano said, lighting up a cigarette and taking a puff. “How ya feeling?”
“Better, although I don’t think I’m getting out soon.” Sousa had circles under her eyes. Piano had to look away for a second, to avoid breaking down. “I will, though.”
“Yeah.”
“You were really brave!” Harp said, patting her head. “Standing up like that, after twirling twice!”
Octavia waited until Harp got away, and then walked to the bed and nuzzled Sousa. “Thanks,” she simply said. “I’m sorry I doubted you. I can’t believe I wanted to marry a guy who would insult Harp.”
“Oh, Octavia, it’s nothing. We all make mistakes now and then.” She coughed. “So, uh. What happened after I passed out?”
“Well, nothing much. After Discord went home in a huff, Harp said we should all party and celebrate,” Piano said. “The mariachi started playing, but then we noticed the world was fucking ending, so the mood kinda died.”
“Ah. Right.” Sousa frowned. “Armageddon. How’d that go?”
“Weeell…” Octavia got to the window and opened the blinds.
Heathen fire coming from down below, indescribable creatures flying around, their breath poison that killed everything on touch. Buildings turning to ash, sinners crumbling down with their earthly possessions. Seven angels—not pegasi; angels—descending, their white robes shimmering with pure splendor, lightning in their eyes, ancient words of fury tattooed on their skin, and the World was the Will was the—
Octavia closed the blinds. “The Princess is still working on it.”
“I told you,” Piano said, taking another puff of the cigarette, trying hard to hide is smirk. “I told you all so fucking hard. Princess Twilight is near? End of the world. Fucking called it.”
“Yeah, but she didn’t cause it, right?”
“No, your boyfriend did. I mean, holy shit, Octavia.” Piano pointed at the window. Faint ragnaroky sounds could be heard. “This is a new low for you. Don’t fucking date guys like him ever again.”
She blinked three times. “Guys who will hurt me?”
“Guys who will end the world as we know it.”
“Pretty much the same, really.”
“Well, what matters is that we all learned something,” Sousa said. “We’re all better ponies after this whole deal. We’re friends with a Princess, Piano has got his revenge on Discord, Harp got to see everypony happy, and I got a golden fiddle.” She winked at Octavia. “So I guess we’re the ones who should thank you, right?”
Octavia giggled. “Aw, you silly. I know I needed to learn a lesson too. And don’t worry—my current boyfriend is much, much better than Discord.”
The room went silent.
“...Your new boyfriend,” Sousa said.
“Yeah!”
“You have a new boyfriend.”
“I do!”
Octavia’s smile was as goofy as it was big. Sousa looked at Piano. Piano looked at Sousa.
Piano sighed. “Octavia, who are you dating, exactly?”
“Oh, he’s great. His name is Xipe Totec, the Night Drinker and God of Plagues. He wears the flayed skins of his enemies to battle, and has just the most handsome lips I’ve ever seen!”
Silence.
“OCTAVIA YOU MOTHERF—”
Flomp!
“Woah!” Luna flinched, and looked down at the mess on the ground that had been her wings two seconds ago. “Woah,” she repeated. “That one was just nasty.”
Author's Note
Birthday present for Selbi, who loves Octavia and hates Discord.
I'm a dick, is what I mean.
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