The Only Chapter This Madness Needs
“Whoi daan’t we eva do sugar and spice things?!” Octavia pouted as Vinyl scribbled down notes in her journal.
It was another typical morning in Canterlot for the two legendary musicians; Octavia was slumped over the breakfast table, neglecting her English muffin and tea. The shaded pony sighed and raised her gaze to her roommate, whose puppydog eyes could melt the heart of an untrained soul. Vinyl Scratch was having absolutely none of it. She had learned the carefully trained tricks of the thickly accented mare. Vinyl took a bite of her toast before answering her roommate’s question.
“Because whenever we do go out, you spend most of the time complaining and cursing the wait staff,” Vinyl said. “You seriously need to be careful about how you speak to other ponies. You’re going to rub somepony the wrong way.”
“‘Eaven an’ ‘Ell, eets nawt mai fault that those bloody ponies daan’t properly kna ‘a ter pour a glass of wine. Bloody ‘Ell... If wahn more horse tries ta use a wide wine glass fer a Chardonnay, I’ll knock tha’ wankar in the fokin’ gob.”
“Right,” Vinyl answered, her focus returning to her studies. “Because you’re the prime Canterlot example of refinement.”
“An daan’t you forget it, mate!”
“That was sarcasm,” Vinyl replied.
“Wot. Ya fin’ yer more refined than may?” Octavia asked, leaning back in her chair.
Vinyl set down her pencil and took off her glasses. She rubbed her tired eyes with her hooves and sighed.
“That’s not what I’m saying,” she muttered. “I’ve just been really stressed out. This upcoming test is going to be tough. Not everypony is lucky enough to graduate music school as quickly as you could, Octy. Plus, I gotta prep for the big show tonight… I’m just really overwhelmed right now.”
“Why do ya even play music for those clubs anyway? The chuffin’ ponies tha’ go to those ‘re such shady characters.”
“I dunno,” Vinyl said, taking a sip of her morning coffee. “I think it’s relaxing. I mean, there’s something about those hypnotic beats, the pulsing bass. The music just helps me… let go, you know? And seeing everypony else being able to let go too? It lets me feel like I’m doing some good. I loosen up. Also, the money pays the rent. So you can’t really complain.”
Octavia shook her head and took her cup of tea.
“It’s disgraceful, that’s wot it is.”
“It’s pretty cool, if you give it a chance,” Vinyl said.
“And whai would I give summit loike that a chance?” Octavia responded.
“I dunno, I think you might like it. You know. Loosen up a bit.”
“OI CHINA PLATE. ‘RE YA SAYIN’ I’M UPTIGHT?”
“No, I-“
“DO YOU FIN’ I’M UPSET? DO YOU FIN’ I AM AN UPSET PONY?”
“That wasn’t what I was-“
“I’LL ‘AVE YA KNA’ I AM THE BLEEDIN’ MOST RELAXED PONY I KNA’. I MAKE CLASSICAL MUSIC THAT BREATHES PEACEFUL. I ‘ELP BUTTERFLIES FALL ASLEEP AT NIGHT. ME HOBSON’S CHOICE IS LOIKE THE BLOOMIN’ MEWIN’ OF A NEWBORN KITTEN. I SWER ON ME MUM, I’ll WAPFORD GAP YA DAFFY DAHN DILLY IF YA FIN’ THAT I’M NOT RELAXED.”
“Octavia, calm down.”
“I AM CALM, YA GOB.”
Vinyl shook her head and returned her focus to her work.
“Right, right. Fine. You’re calm. Listen, I just need to finish this before I get ready for my show tonight. Maybe tomorrow we can go… wine tasting. Or something.”
“Na’ that sounds right peachy.”
“Indeed.”
“Quite.”
“Stupendus.”
“Fantastic.”
“Cheerio.”
“‘re ya makin’ fun of the bloomin’ way Ah talk?” Octavia asked.
Octavia stared at the ceiling, eyes wide open. The deep pulse of the bass shook her bed as she snagged a pillow and placed it over her head.
“Blast it, Vinyl. You and yer accursed wubs.”
She tossed and turned. Octabia covered her sensitive musician’s ears with her blanket, but her mind couldn't shut off. Her mind was locked in on Vinyl’s signature melodies. She picked up one of her pillows and threw it across the room, roaring at the top of her lungs.
“COR, BLIMEY! I’ll go to your blasted partay!”
Octavia put on her signature collar, brushed her mane, and then put on a dab of perfume as she exited the apartment and traveled across the street to the party. Ponies were lined up to get into the club, each in their own glow-in-the-dark outfits and adorned in neon glow sticks. Their hair was heavily gelled, spiked, and Octavia watched a pony spinning flashing balls for a moment with some awe before marching directly through her to the door man.
“Excuse may, I’d loike ter enter the establishment.”
“It’s full up, lady,” the bouncer said. “You’ll have to get in line with everypony else.”
“You fockin’ wot? I swear on me mum… Do ya kna ‘oo I am? I’m the bloomin’ wahn, and only, Octavia! Me roommate is the chuffin’ wahn makin’ the bleedin’ scritchity-scratches that is keepin’ me from gettin’ any bloody Bo-Peep. I’ll ‘ave ya kna that I ‘ave over three-hundred-“
“Fine, fine,” The guard relented. “Scratch said you might show up. You’re on the list. Get in.”
“Na, was that so ‘ard?” Octavia said, holding herself smugly.
The classical mare trotted into the dark room and was immediately assaulted by a wide spectrum of smoke, lasers, neon lights, and sound. She paused and looked around, trying to isolate her friend. Everywhere she could see there were ponies dancing, ponies drinking, and for some reason, ponies trying to figure out what sugar smelled like. Weird. The party was in full swing and now that Octavia was in the thick of it, she wasn’t quite sure what she expected to do.
Her eyes moved to a platform in the center of the room. Vinyl’s hoof shook in the air in time with the beat, as she carefully adjusted the settings on her board, her head nodding with the beat. She looked up to Octavia, whose carefully manicured ‘night on the town’ style stood out like a sore thumb in the midst of the party scene. She waved at her friend, and then went back to her work, a musician lost to her art.
“‘Eaven an’ ‘Ell, na wot?” Octavia mused to herself, looking around at the scene. “Might as well try ter be social.”
Octavia trotted over to the folks that were sniffing sugar. She was always a fan of hor dourves. Who wasn’t? Perhaps this was an excellent opportunity to become a sick, edgy, scene mare. Octavia sat down beside a mare who was carefully lining up a smorgasbord of different sugars for her and her friends.
Vinyl had mentioned earlier that she’d need to be careful about how she said things… well, now was as good a time as any to try it out, Octavia supposed.
“Tally-ho, kind mares. How are the refreshments? Are they quite exquisite? Do they have a fine aroma?” she asked, trying her absolute best to keep from falling back into what she could only assume was her heavy accent.
But her words were heavily muffled over the deep house electronic. One mare leans in and sniffs an entire line of sugar before passing out on the floor, without moving. Octavia looked down at the unknown mare, then looked to the mare she sat next to.
“Food poisoning, am I right?” Octavia commented.
The mare beside her stood up and sprinted towards the nearest phone as Octavia sighed.
“I knew I wouldn’t fit in ‘ere… I need summit ter drink.”
She rose from her seat and made her way to the bar, sitting down at an open stool and waving a large sack of bits at the bartender to get his attention. The stallion shakes his head and approaches her.
“Whatcha want?!” he shouted over the music.
“DO YA ‘AVE MERLOT?”
“WHAT?” he asks, stupefied.
“‘A ABAHT CHARDONNAY?”
“We don’t have wine!” he shouted once more to the gray mare.
“OKAY! I’LL TAKE THE HOUSE BLEND THEN.”
“We don’t have ANY wine.”
“...Not even Boxed wine?” she asked, sadly.
“No!”
Octavia sighed, placing a hoof on her forehead.
“‘A ABAHT TEA!”
“Long Island. Got it.”
“DID YA KNA THAT CELESTIA RAISES THE BLOOMIN’ SUN?!” Octavia drunkenly slurred to the stallion sitting next to her. “AIN’T THAT LOIKE…. SO AWESOME?”
The stallion rose from his seat and trotted away as the bartender took the drink away from her.
“Lady, I think you’ve had enough,” the bartender said.
“BUT I’VE ONLY DRANK HALF OF ONE?!”
“I know.”
“But Whyyyyyyyyy?” she whined.
“I’ve done this dance too many times, sweetheart,” the stallion said. “Any minute now you’re going to think of-“
“DANCING SOUNDS AMAZING!” Octavia shouted, before rocketing from her seat to the dance floor.
She kicked her hooved this way and that, feeling the deep dubstep rhythm drive her actions. She bumped into ponies, cheering and screaming with the build-ups and letting loose on the drops.
“I’ve never felt so alive!” she screams.
Vinyl watched on in the distance, her attention drawn to her roommate. Octavia seemed to be making her best effort to start a mosh pit. She kicked, tumbled and slid into other ponies as she cleared the dance floor for herself.
“Oh my Celestia, Octavia,” Vinyl groaned, placing a hoof on her forehead.
Vinyl couldn’t help but cringe as Octavia went ham on the dance floor, fell over, and then got back up and did the same dance. And then fell over again. A few of the mares followed her example, trying to replicate her drunken dancing. Octavia leapt to her hooves as if she had finally found the ponies she had been looking for all her life, and beelined to dance with them.
The DJ pony smiled for her friend.
“Well, at least she’s finally lightening up a bit,” she muttered. “Who knows? Maybe this will help her finally relax a little bit.”
Octavia reeled a hoof back, and punched another mare in the face. She fell to the ground, twitching. Vinyl stopped. The music scratched.
“...Or not.”
The club erupted into anger as mares swarmed on Octavia, as she screamed choruses of “Git yer ruddy hooves off me!”
Vinyl dived into the fray, ducking hooves and bites to swipe Octavia into her magical grasp and push her way through the club. Stepping outside, Vinyl dropped Octavia on the ground and gasped for breath as the ponies in line stared inside at the building riot.
“I, uh,” Vinyl said, turning to the ponies. “Party’s over. Go home.”
“Dawwww,” the crowd groaned, turning away and dispersing as a fire started inside the warehouse.
Vinyl turned to Octavia as she rose to her hooves.
“I could’a took ‘em,” Octavia slurred. “‘Er mother was a ‘amster-“
“Okay, light weight, it’s time to get you home,” Vinyl muttered.
Vinyl moved to her friend, but Octavia swinged another hoof. In slow motion, Vinyl watched as her signature violet shades flew into the air and fell to the ground. She reached out to grab them, foregoing any magic, but by the time she realized it, it was too late; the shades smashed into the hard earth. To her relief, they just got scratched a little bit. Otherwise, they’re fine.
Vinyl let out a breath of relief as Octavia stepped on them.
“WHOOPS!” Octavia starts, realizing what she just stepped a hoof on. “I’M SORRY!”
Vinyl closed her eyes in pain, as if an extension of herself disappeared from the world.
“Don’t worry about it,” Vinyl said, putting on a smile for her friend and roommate. “Let’s just get you home. Tomorrow morning is going to be rough for you.”
She got to her hooves, and wrapped one of Octavia’s hooves around her back, guiding her towards their home.
“Vinyl?”
“Yeah, Octy?”
“Oi’m sorry I ruined yer party…” she said quietly.
Vinyl smiled and shook her head.
“Don’t be silly! You were the life of the party, girl.”
The warehouse erupts in flames as ponies sprint out of the doors.
“Ya really mean it?” she asked.
“Of course! I don’t think anyone is going to forget that one for a long time.”
Vinyl carried her roommate up the stairs of their apartment and guided the drunk mare to her bedroom.
“Yer the bleedin’ Mae West China plate a mare could ‘ave, Vinyl.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll have some aspirin ready in the morning. Just get some rest,” Vinyl said comfortingly.
“I-I kna I can be a bit ‘ard on ya sometimes,” she slurred. “But, I just want ya ter know—“ she trailed off. Vinyl turned her head, sitting on the bed beside Octavia.
“Yeah?” she asks.
“...Ya make electronic music pretty okay,” Octavia muttered.
Vinyl’s face scrunched, and then she let out a short laugh.
“Sure, sure,” she said, hopping off the bed. “See you in the morning.”
Vinyl exited her roommate’s room, closing the door behind her. She sighed and looked out their apartment window at the warehouse, where the roof was on fire. Hopefully, everypony got down. Eventually, the owners would have to raise the roof to ensure that another fire like that didn’t happen again. Vinyl looked down at her broken shades, and set them on the kitchen table.
“How in the world am I going to come up with a story for this?”
She stared at the glasses, and then looked back to her friend’s bedroom.
“Eh, I’ll just say it was my fault. She’ll believe me. She doesn’t have to remember,” Vinyl said with a smile before laying on the couch, passing out.
Author's Note
In honor of this animation, being bugged on Twitter and Scribbs/Lost being super cool.
