The Equestrian Broadcast Channel Radio Transcript

Broadcast Date: January 3rd, 100█

Series: Candid, Indeed!

Season No. 3, Episode No. 64: “An Interview with Rarity”

Interviewer: M. Phone (A.K.A., Mike), Show Host, Record Producer, Author of bestseller "Music to My Ears"

Interviewee: Rarity Belle, Fashion Mogul, Current Caretaker of Spike (Post-"Incident")

Notice: Transcript is only partial; significant parts have been lost due to damage to physical files. Time-stamps have been left in places to help with reader analysis.

11:00 PM:

Announcer: From downtown Manehatten, here for your undivided attention, and submitted for your approval it's our seasoned host: MIKE!

MIKE: Hello everyone, thank you all for tuning in, and for our lovely in-studio audience for taking Time out of your busy schedules for this very special episode, of Candid, Indeed!

[Audience Applauds]

MIKE: Tonight, we of course, have our very special guest Rarity Belle, here from Ponyville just to say hi to us, fancy that!

[Audience Laughs, then Applauds again.]

RARITY: Thank you so much for the entrance Mike, you know I do appreciate a little accouterments from Time to Time.

MIKE: You folks at home couldn't see, but she came in here on 5-inch heels swinging in from a chandelier screaming about how she had always wanted to come here to meet me...

[Audience Laughs, Rarity gives a pained chuckle.]

MIKE: So, Rarity, let's cut the cheese...

[Fart sound effect plays, audience gives an uproar of laughter]

MIKE: Heh, I mean, to the chase, and get down to brass tracks.

[Swerving sound effect plays, audience laughs again, louder]

MIKE: Tacks, brass tacks.

RARITY: Yes, please, let's do.

MIKE: I suppose I should just start with the obvious, your new fashion line, Salt and Ice, just debuted in Canterlot this week, how has that gone?

RARITY: Oh just marvelous darling, the show we did last Tuesday has already proven that this will be my most successful launch since-

[Rarity trails off, 37 seconds of silence before Mike chimes in.]

MIKE: Rarity, are you ok?

RARITY: Hmm? Oh yes, I was just meant it's been a while since I've had success like this.

MIKE: Well the road to success is paved with failure, right?

RARITY: Indeed it is.

MIKE: And you must know all about failure, am I right?

[Audience laughs, a 'boing' sound effect plays, more laughter]

RARITY: Excuse me, what do you me- [She's interrupted by Mike]

11:02 PM:

MIKE: So, why the name Salt & Ice?

RARITY: Um, but you- [Rarity is silent for a moment, then continues]

RARITY: It's a reference to ocean-life, of course, but I feel the two-fold title helps divide the harsh frigid northern-inspired pieces from the cool, sensual tropic-themed ones.

MIKE: Interesting!

RARITY: And, of course, it rolls of the tongue quite well.

MIKE: 'Salt & Ice, Salt & Ice,' it actually does, hey, that's solid. At least you can do something right?

RARITY: Excuse me?!

11:07 PM:

MIKE: Ooh, now it's on to my favorite segment! The "call-in, fall-out!"

RARITY: What, is that? I'm afraid I've never heard of this part of your show.

MIKE: Hmm, I think you're going to like this. We go through our records and find a frequent-caller with views opposing our interviewee, and let them duke it out, one v. one, in a battle of wits!

RARITY: That, doesn't sound very healthy for either of us.

MIKE: Oh, please. It's all very safe. We'll cut the debate off if the two of you begin to start using, choice words with each other. Not that that'd be beyond you, huh?

RARITY: What on earth do- [She's cut off by a dial tone, followed by several rings. A crisp, male voice asks for her name.]

RARITY: Oh dear.

12:01 AM:

[Audience 'oohs']

MIKE: O... k! I think we need to cut it here, let's just...

[Dead signal tone]

MIKE: I, apologize to our listeners, I honestly had no idea you had quite a relationship with him.

RARITY [Holding back tears]: It wasn't always this way... It wasn't...

MIKE: Moving on... let's get back to the hay and potatoes of this...

RARITY: Can I have a moment, please? I need to recompose myself for a moment.

MIKE: Are you sure you deserve it?

RARITY: ...no.

1:37 AM:

MIKE: And so... you thread here... and here.

RARITY: Yes, but don't overlap this and... oh. There it goes.

MIKE: Well, this has been informative, I suppose I'll need to practice more but, I think that'l end this segment, for now.

RARITY: Yes, well, thank you for affording me this opportunity to relax, I needed it.

MIKE: Well, that's more than we could say for Twilight, right?

RARITY: W-what did you just say?

[Large buzzer sounds, audience cheers]

MIKE: Ooh, and that means we are out of Time, which of course, means we get to do our last-second segment!

RARITY: No. NO! I thought you cancelled this!

MIKE: It's Time for a revitalization! You know what it's Time for!

[The audience chimes in with Mike, screaming 'Candid, or DIE!']

RARITY: Mike, please. Skip this. You don't need to dig any deeper, I-I've got nothing to hide.

MIKE: Cut the [Expletive Removed]. I'm sick of this.

[Audience goes dead silent.]

RARITY: Wh-what do you...?

MIKE: Stop this whole "I'm innocent, oh woe is me, look at how cute and sweet I am" I'm [Expletive Removed] sick of it.

RARITY: [Silent]

MIKE: Just, explain to me, in no dishonest, sweetheart gimmick jargon of yours, how on earth you can come here, look me in the eye, and talk about some goddamn clothing.

RARITY: As opposed to what?!

MIKE: You know exactly [Expletive Removed] what.

RARITY: No, I think not!

[Audience boos.]

MIKE: Don't lie to me. Don't lie to them. And don't like to yourself.

RARITY: I honestly have no idea what you're talking about!

[Audience boos, harsher this Time]

RARITY: Would you all kindly be quiet?!

MIKE: Stop changing the [Expletive Removed] subject, and tell me the truth.

RARITY: Clearly, I am. I have no clue what on earth you could be referring to.

MIKE: Then allow me to spell it out for you.

122:37 AM:

MIKE: What did you do to Twilight?!

RARITY: I didn't do anything to her!

MIKE: Well, quite obviously, you MUST HAVE. Someone as stable and hard-working as her, doesn't just off herself out of nowhere, without some [Expletive Removed] reason as to why!

RARITY: And what makes you think I had anything to do with it?!

MIKE: So, it's just a coincidence that you happened to offer your residence to Spike after her death?

RARITY: No! I was just being a good friend to someone who was dealing with loss!

MIKE: Yes, of course. Likely story.

RARITY: What on earth are you on about?! I don't even understand how you're drawing these conclusions! And how DARE you speak about Twilight and Spike like that! They deserve your utmost respect and courtesy in these trying Times!

MIKE: You know what I think?! I think your outright ignorance to Twilight's mental state is what caused their 'trying Times' in the first [Expletive Removed] place!

RARITY: [Silent for a few seconds] Wh-what?

[Audience boos, almost deafening at this point.]

000000000000:37 RM:

MIKE: And it was your general incessant behavior, your unwillingness to just listen to her when she needed it, and perhaps your intolerable attitude describing every aspect of your [Expletive Removed] relationship with her!

RARITY: [Silent]

MIKE: Oh, now you're suddenly quiet. Maybe because you've finally realized your part in all this? Your role in this tragedy?

RARITY: [Silent]

MIKE: No. No you don't get to be quiet now. [Expletive Removed] admit it now. Tell me, tell them, admit to yourself, do it. Do it now.

RARITY: [Silent]

[A rousing call from the audience begins, slowly growing in volume]

MIKE: Tell me.

[The audience's crescendo accelerates, beginning to rattle the room.]

MIKE: Tell. Me.

[The sound of something falling over, feedback distorts the audio for a moment.]

PM:

MIKE: TELL ME.

[Rarity's lip quivers. A single tear falls from her eye, and she begins to breakdown.]

MIKE: TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME.

[It's coming now.]

MIKE: TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME.

[There is now stopping it now.]

MIKE: TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL THEM. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME.

[The audience joins the chanting. A mug falls, shatters, but doesn't. Rarity falls from her chair, no she doesn't.]

MIKE: TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL THEM. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL THEM. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME.

[The room begins to fracture. Rending itself into several pieces. The geometry fails to make sense, and life is becoming meaningless. Help.]

MIKE: TELL. ME. PLEASE. OH. GOD. TELL ME! TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL THEM. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL THEM. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME. TELL ME.

[Rarity can't take this much longer. It's beginning to show on her face. Her hair is stark white. Her bones are tough and brittle. She hasn't seen the sun in so long.]

MIKE: TELL. INFORM. NOTIFY. APPRISE. LET KNOW. MAKE AWARE. ACQUAINT WITH. ADVISE. PUT IN THE PICTURE. BRIEF. FILL IN. ALERT. WARN. CLUE UP. RELATE. RECOUNT. NARRATE. UNFOLD. REPORT. RECITE. DESCRIBE. SKETCH. WEAVE. SPIN. UTTER. VOICE. STATE. DECLARE. COMMUNICATE. IMPART. DIVULGE.

[How long has she been sitting on this secret? The walls are caked in blood. Whose?]

MIKE: Tell.

[The table is no longer there. Neither is the audience.

MIKE:

[The chairs, the drinks, the staff, the radio, the electrical wires, the bricks, the mortar, the fuse-boxes, the vents, the A/C, the pianos, the clocks, the motherboards, the doctors, the men, the suits, the guns, the houses, the rear windows, the movies, the dances, the hammers, the ponies, the kites, the beds, the apples, the drums, the curves, the controls, the parents, the payments, the shelves, the diseases, the sticks, the copies, the libraries, the roofs, the couches, the scents, the calculators, the afterthoughts, the discussions, the cows, the snails, the records, the walks, the carpenters, the towns, the beetles, the channels, the stitches, the hours, the minutes, the days, the months, the years, the decades, the centuries, the millennia, the eras, the eons, the periods, the epochs, the chains, the lessons, the veins, the balances, the wrens, the distributions, the hobbies, the birds, the drinks, the slaves, the canvases, the whips, the beliefs, the rays, the prices, the friends, the drawer, the cushions, the tempers, the brains, the hills, the eggs, the summers, the sums, the attacks, the bears, the shades, the selections, the arches, the teams, the sidewalks, the drops, the competitions, the legs, the meats, the flowers, and the tragedies. All gone.]

MIKE:

[But also the ranges, the kisses, the crooks, the nuts, the fathers, the stores, the reasons, the bombs, the captions, the anger, the baseballs, the cups, the alarms, the robins, the acts, the farmers, the tricks, the carriages, the eyes, the visitors, the tomatoes, the folds, the leads, the pollutants, the rates, the homes, the hatreds, the wishes, the laces, the rains, the creams, the coals, the forks, the calendars, the hairs, the hooks, the muscles, the things, the buns, the pots, the necks, the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W's, the organizations, the liquids, the roses, the directions, the judges, the impulses, the frogs, the marbles, the umbrellas, the wrists, the forms, the debts, the kicks, the goldfish, the breakfasts, the signs, the moments, the airports, the hats, the ices, the bikes, the mothers, the hopes, the vessels, the woods, the spoons, the animals, the coats, the starts, the ends, the sizes, the silks, the numbers, the letters, the bands, the oranges, the cans, the apparatuses, the stones, the protests, the borders, the animals, the pests, the icicles, the sciences, the fans, and the rails.]

MIKE: Tell, please. Get this over with. End this torrid broadcast. I just made up a word to describe it. End this. GET. US. OFF. THE. AIR.

[But also the one you cared for.]

MIKE: We'll just sit here in silence. ~~We~~ You have all the Time in the world.

[Gone. All of it. Just the silence. And]

MIKE:

[You.]

∞:∞ AM:

MIKE:

[It's the end. It always came down to this. Your body; it's dissolving].

MIKE:

[Death is coming. All is returning to void. You need to release this before everyone else suffers.]

[Hurry. Time is running out.]

[Silence for 1,000,000 years.]

[Silence for 1,000,000,000 years.]

[Silence for 1,000,000,000,000 years.]

[Silence for ???? years.]

RARITY: Tell me.

<><><><><>

3:26 AM:

As far as Rarity could tell, there had never been an "M. Phone" or a program called "Candid, Indeed" on the EBC rosters. In fact, she had no clothing line, planned or extant, called "Salt & Ice."

That didn't stop the ear-shattering scream from escaping her lips as she barely escaped another night terror. It was happening twice a week now.

Spike burst into the room, just like last Time. He was growing smarter, he already had her slippers, and an aspirin with a little glass of water. They exchanged wordless glances, Spike knew not to speak of it, Rarity wished to keep it to herself.

Spike almost walked out before Rarity whimpered. He turned to see tears welling in her eyes. He quickly jumped up t o the bread and embraced her. He couldn't stifle the tears, but he was there, just as every night, taking care of her.

When Rarity had finally calmed down, Spike was quietly sleeping at the end of her bed. She stayed so, very still. Confusion was now the predominant feeling.

Why?

Guilt? It didn't quite make sense. Rarity didn't feel guilty about all this. If anything, she was the only one who cared for Twilight's mental health the entire Time they were here! Right?

Doubt? She looked at the end of the bed. Spike still had a worried expression on his face. He cared so much for her. Why did he put up with her? Surely he could get his own place and leave her to her own problems, right?

Fear? She urged herself under the covers. She was still shivering. The dream was fading now, she could barely remember the details at all at this point, but they still held an icy grip on her heart. She slowly paced her breaths. She never had more than one a night, that was a fact. She could rest easy now.

She knew, tomorrow would be another day.

Tomorrow night, would be another nightmare.

Author's Note

-DATA CORRUPTED-

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