Nardwuar vs. Vinyl Scratch
Doot Doola Doot Doo...
Doot doo!
"Who are you?"
The strange, very vibrantly dressed, mostly hairless creature stood in front of me asked, poking a microphone in my face. A unicorn I didn't recognise was also in the process of getting a camera close enough to get up my snout. I rolled my eyes, but I'm not sure either of them could see it through my glasses. I called upon my magic.
'Vinyl Scratch.' I spelled out, luminescent letters floating above my head.
"DJ-" It said, pulling the mic back to itself before pointing it to me again.
'P0N-3.'
"DJ P0N-3, welcome to Vanhoover." He said. I think it was a he. If it was then he certainly had an unfortunately whiny voice.
'Thanks.'
"Right off the bat, I have a gift for you." He said, turning around and rummaging through a box on the floor behind him. That was unexpected. I tried to look over his shoulder, but he turned back to me before I could get a peek. In his... uh, claws? In his claws was a large, hardcover book. I took it in my magic as he passed it to me. "Now, we're here in Van-"
'Hoover.' I spelled out. He'd pointed the mic to me again. Surely he'd figured out I can't use it by now?
"Vanhoover!" He said, excitedly. "We're here in Vanhoover, and I'm from Vancouver, Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada!"
'Okay?' I spelled. He was from Vanhoover, but not Vanhoover? What the heck is a Canada?
"And so, a gift for you, DJ P0N-3, 'Vancouver In-"
'Music.' I read from the cover of the book.
"'Vancouver In Music'!" He squealed excitedly. "And if you turn to the page I've marked there-"
I flipped the book open to a page that had a yellow sticky note poking out the top. There were a load of pictures of crazy looking buildings, all crowded with more of whatever-this-guy-is's. There were a few pictures of what looked like bands and stuff, which was kinda neat, I guess. Alien bands?
"-That page, there's a number of bands performing there at Expo 86!" He said, pointing to one picture in particular as the camera got up close. "Now, this picture in the top corner there is Einstürzende Neubauten from Germany, and on your latest single, you sampled Einstürzende-"
'Neustallungen.'
"That's right! Isn't that funny, Einstürzende Neubauten from Earth, and Einstürzende Neustallungen from Equestria!" He finished, once again poking the mic in my face.
This was all really, really weird now. Whatever this 'Earth' was, it had it's own Vanhoover, it's own Germaney, even it's own Einstürzende Neustallungen! Just what in Celestia's name was going on here? Had this strange monkey thing come from some kinda alternate dimension to interview me about my sampling? There was some cosmic level bullshit going on, somehow. Did this mean that there's some Equestrian equivalent of this guy, and that he's in 'Vancouver' interviewing a different me?
I'm going to give myself a headache thinking about this.
'This is strange.'
"And, turning the page again." He said, pawing at the book and to a second marker I hadn't noticed. "If we look here, we've got a picture of Thurston Moore outside the Biltmore Cabaret in Vancouver, and right now we're in the-"
'Biltmare Cabaret.'
"That's right! So, another connection there, DJ P0N-3, to Vancouver."
I could feel my brain working, or at least trying to. This is crazy, all of this. None of this should be possible, but here I was, being interviewed by some unknown creature, looking at a photo of the building I'm stood in, in a book from another dimension? Something like that? I had no idea. This had really thrown me. I kept glancing between him and the book.
'This is crazy, you know that, right?'
"It is crazy! And there's more for you to look through too! Vancouver In Music, a gift, for you, DJ P0N-3!" He smiled.
'Thanks.' I spell simply. It may have been reality shattering, but I wasn't gonna turn up a gift. I had a feeling I'd be looking through that one for a while.
"Moving on, DJ P0N-3, I have another gift for you!" He quickly followed on, turning around again to grab something else out of the box. "Now, you like Sapphire Shores, don't you DJ P0N-3?"
I nodded. I do like Sapphire Shores, she's an auditory magician as far as I'm concerned.
"And a gift here, for you, DJ P0N-3, 'Hot Trot' signed by Sapphire Shores!" He yelled, passing the record over to me. I eagerly grabbed it. It was the regular press 7" single, but there was marker on the cover. P0N-3, Keep on killin it! ~ Sapphire Shores.
If I could squeal, I would have. This was my favourite Sapphire Shores single, and to have it signed?
'This is for me?!'
"That's for you!" He answered enthusiastically. "Hot Trot by Sapphire Shores!"
I hugged the single to my chest in the crook of my leg. This had made whatever kind of interview this was well worth it.
'Thank you so much!'
"Why don't you tell the people about Sapphire Shores, DJ P0N-3?" He asked, pointing the mic at me again as the camera got right up in my face. I didn't pay much attention to the camera though, I was more than happy to talk about my favourite pony in music.
'The pony of pop! Everything she does is just perfect, I don't know how she manages it, it's incredible! What a voice! And she has the songs to go with it, and the moves too! She's got it all.'
"And now you have a signed copy of Hot Trot, DJ P0N-3! A gift for you!"
'Thank you, I love it!' I answered honestly, safely keeping it flat against the cover of the book he'd just given me.
"DJ P0N-3, you like Octavia Melody, don't you?" He asked.
'Tavi? Yeah, she's cool.' I confirm, pretty confused by the sudden turn in the conversation.
"You helped record some tracks from her last album, right?"
'Yeah, we had a sweet little set up going, I had some mics that really worked with the whole cello thing, sounded great in the mix!'
"And you've known Octavia for a while now, right?"
'Uh, maybe 15 years? We've known each other since we were foals.'
"You met in Canterlot Primary School for the Musically Gifted?" He asked. He was right. That was really, really weird.
'How do you know that?' I ask, genuinely confused. That's not the kind of thing that comes up in regular conversation. I certainly don't remember telling any other interviewer that. How did he find that out?
"You're DJ P0N-3, we have to know!" He non-answered.
'But how?' I spell. He doesn't see, he's turned around, grabbing something else out of the box. After rummaging through it for a moment he presented me with something wrapped up in a towel.
"Another gift for you, DJ P0N-3!"
The camera got a close up as I unwrapped the towel to reveal what was hidden inside. I couldn't help but snort at what I saw when I finally got it open.
"An Octavia Melody bobblehead!" He exclaimed.
It was a ridiculous thing. A big lump of plastic shaped like my friend, with an enormous head. I tried my best to stifle a chuckle, but I couldn't. I laughed. It's a sound a lot of ponies find kinda unnerving, because I can't actually laugh, it sounds more like I'm struggling to breathe. I didn't care, this ridiculous caricature of my best friend was too good not to laugh at. How come I'd never heard of this before? I wonder if Tavi knew? This didn't seem like the kind of thing she'd sign off on. I'm glad it existed though.
'This is great!'
"It is great!" He agreed. "And if we shake it-"
He gave the thing a good rattle, and poor Tavi's head starting bobbing around like an idiot.
I loved this thing.
"So there we are, an Octavia Melody bobblehead, for you, DJ P0N-3!"
'Thank you, this is going right on my mantle.'
"Now, DJ P0N-3, 'shake your'-" He pointed the mic at me. I stared at it blankly.
"Shake your-" He repeated. I didn't have an answer. What was he talking about?
"Shake your pretty-" I didn't get it. What was he... Oh. Oh Celestia.
"Shake your pretty pony-"
'Shake Your Pretty Pony Plot.' I finally answer, hiding my face in my hooves.
"'Shake Your Pretty Pony Plot', that's right!" He chirped. "What can you tell the people about 'Shake Your Pretty Pony Plot'?"
'Do I have to?' I plead. I'd really rather not talk about this one.
"The people need to know about 'Shake Your Pretty Pony Plot', DJ P0N-3!"
'I don't think they do.' I sigh. He's still pointing the mic at me. The camera was still aimed at me. I wasn't getting out of it. 'That was the first song I ever put out.'
"The first song you put out!" He parroted. "With the 2 Cool 4 Skool Crew, right?!"
'Yes.' I cringed. Looking back on it now, that had to be the dumbest name for any act ever. Hindsight was 20/20 I suppose.
"Now, you weren't DJ P0N-3 yet when this came out were you?" He pushed. "Can you tell the people what you called yourself?"
Celestia above, he really was digging deep. I gave him my best pleading eyes, because I really could do without going back over this incredibly embarrassing period of my life. He either didn't notice or didn't care, and just kept staring at me expectantly. He was really going to make me say it.
'Miss Hype Rump Shaker.' I spelled out in tiny letters, covering my eyes. This was so embarrassing!
"Miss Hype Rump Shaker!" He yelled. Great, there was no chance anyone watching could miss that now. Fantastic.
"Now, another gift for you, DJ P0N-3." He said, handing me another 7. It was a bland, white label thing in a plain paper sleeve. There was a blue stamp on one side of the sleeve. Oat Party Records. Test Pressing. Shake Your Pretty Pony Plot. This was a test pressing for the first thing I'd ever released. How in Equestria did he get this?!
'Where did you find this?' I ask. 'I don't even have a copy of this!'
"A test pressing of Shake Your Pretty Pony Plot, a gift for you, DJ P0N-3!" He non-answered.
'How do you know all this?!'
"You're DJ P0N-3, we have to know!"
'This is all crazy! Are you some kind of detective? Like, this is almost creepy, who even are you?'
"Nardwuar The Human Serviette, DJ P0N-3!"
'Right...'
I have no idea what a human serviette is. That really didn't clear anything up at all.
I couldn't work him out. Somehow, this things had found out all kinds of things about me and given me a bunch of stuff only my closest friends would know I liked. What was he? Beyond being a 'human serviette', I mean. I was going to have to ask my agent some serious questions about this guy, he knows more than any other interviewer I've ever talked to, and he's not even from this planet! I think...
"Now, DJ P0N-3, what can you tell the people about this?" The human serviette asked, turning around to grab something. A moment later he presented me with a big paper roll of something or other.
I took it in my magic and carefully unfurled it. It was pretty big, a poster of some kind. It was a little rough around the edges, mostly black with writing on one side, and of course I'd opened it upside down. I flipped it right side up and-
I stared at it. I was stunned. I knew exactly what this was.
"Draft Punk, Alive! What can you tell the people about this poster?" He asked.
I couldn't quite formulate words just yet. I was too busy taking in every detail of the poster. It was a bit sun faded, it had creases where it'd been folded, and it looked like something had been spilled on it at one point, but it was what it was. An actual Alive tour poster. A telltale tear on the bottom left gave it away as a very specific Alive tour poster. One I was very familiar with.
'This was the first show I ever went to." I explained, still entranced by the poster. 'Draft Punk at the Canterlot dome. I think I must've been 13 or 14? I got my cutie mark that night.'
"And the poster?" He pressed.
'I tried to take this poster with me as a souvenir. I got it off the wall but somepony snatched it from me before I could get it home, tore the corner off. I still have that corner, somewhere.' I explain. Then it was my turn. 'How on Celestia's green earth did you get this? Where did you find this?! How could you possibly know it was my poster?!'
"It's a gift! For you! DJ P0N-3!"
'Tell me! Tell me how you know all this shit!'
"We have to know, you're DJ P0N-3!" He offered, again. I sighed and stared at him.
'You should be, like, a private investigator or something. You're too good at this.'
"Thank you!"
I stared at the poster for a bit longer, then gently rolled it back up, taking extra care to make sure I didn't crease or tear it any more than it already was. That thing was going on my wall when I got home.
'Thank you."
I looked at the collection of gifts I'd gotten from this strange, strange creature. This had definitely been the single weirdest interview I'd ever had. Even on a fundamental level, no questions about 'the new album' or 'hit single' or anything. It'd actually been about me, as a pony, in a weird kind of way.
"Now, winding up here, why should people care about DJ P0N-3? Why should people care?" He posed, camera zooming right up in my face again.
'Uh...'
I wasn't prepared for this question. Especially after everything else. I'd never really thought about it before.
'Uh, people should care because I try really hard? It's cool to care about things, I think. I try my best, so it'd be nice for people to care about me.'
"Well, thank you very much DJ P0N-3, keep on rockin' in the free world, and doot doola doot do-"
He pointed the mic at me again. I'm pretty sure he had just 'dooted' Shave And A Mane Cut, and he was looking at me very expectantly. I think I got the gist.
'Doot doo?'
"That works!" He yells, coming around next to me as the camera pony panned out.
He froze himself in a really weird position, looking right at the camera with his mouth wide open. I figure it's some kind of end card or something so I just smile for the camera too.
I carried on smiling as the shot kept going.
And going.
I figured it wasn't some kind of end card when the shot just kept on going. He was still perfectly still, and the camera was still rolling.
'What is this? What are you doing?'
He doesn't respond.
'Are you okay?'
No response.
'Should I leave?'
Still nothing. I had no clue what he was doing.
'I'm going to go now, goodbye.' I spell, gathering up my gifts. This whole thing had been pretty surreal. No, it'd been very surreal. Probably one of the weirdest things to ever happen to me so far.
I made to leave, but glanced between my gifts and the human serviette. He didn't have to give me these, and I wasn't raised to be ungrateful.
'Thank you very much, Mr. Serviette.'
I turn to leave, he stays where he is.
What a strange, strange day.
