Taming Strange. Or: How I learned to stop worrying and make love in public

The Cordial Chords string sectional of the Royal Canterlot Orchestral Conservatory consistently churned out the finest string players in the world. If you could survive High Strung's constant beratement then you could deal with even the worst prima donnas.
His classes turned enthusiasts into fanatics, and fanatics into cultists, and our heroine already worshipped her cello in all but name, so she was clearly in the right place.

His signature tool for maintaining morale was his trusty side arm. A toy ping pong ball gun. If you messed up even slightly you would hear the ever dreaded small "thump". Then you would shut your eyes and cringe knowing it's coming. Just when you think it's been too long and you crack open an eye to see if someone else had gotten it instead of you, that's when it hits you. Just the tiniest little "poink" off of the center of your forehead.

That wasn't the worst of it though. You then were required to pick up the ball, walk it up to the front of the class, and return it to him with all eyes locked onto you. Every eye accusing you for interrupting class. You would then have to place the ball in High Strung's hoof, and apologize for the interruption. Then walk all the way back to your seat, all eyes still locked onto you.

Ever want to play a joke on an Equestrian orchestra? Then purchase a similar ping pong ball gun and wait for a pause during a symphony. When you fire it half the string section will scream, duck under their chairs and beg for forgiveness before any of them remember where they are.

Octavia had always dreamed of attending the conservatory, but her dreams were quickly becoming a nightmare. Her roommates and neighbors were very, let's call it amorous. The nightly sessions were unrelenting and apparently the times were always staggered to where they never occurred at the same time.

What's worse was on two separate occasions Harpo brought a young mare to his dorm with him so now there were four ponies moaning instead of three. No pillow was thick enough to completely drown it out, and Octavia was either too polite or too embarrassed to tell them to quiet down.

So for the last week she had slept maybe an hour a night and it was taking its toll on her. She had seen the shame and despair in the eyes of her classmates when the dreaded weapon fired its terrible ordinance. She vowed never to let it happen to her and she went to extreme lengths to stay awake in class. She would dig the nut of her bow into her hip to keep her eyes open. She thanked Celestia that her instrument required her to stand or who knows what might have happened.

Unfortunately it finally happened. She hadn't slept for four full nights and it finally happened. The poor pony fell asleep standing up leaning softly against her cello. The bow gently scraping against the strings making a discordant racket.

Then it happened. The entire class watched the round fly in a gentle arc towards its target. It flew so slowly that it seemed like it wouldn't make it all the way to the back. But it did. It always found its mark. It hit Octavia right between the eyes. The ball fell limply to the floor. And. . .

Nothing happened. The cellist still dozed lazily against her cello and the class held its breath. High Strung was forced to do the unthinkable. He cocked the gun and fired again. Two violinists were now sobbing softly, holding each other at the horror of the whole scene. Again the ball found its mark and again the cellist didn't react. He emptied all five rounds against the cellist's forehead and still no reaction.

High Strung looked as if he was about to spontaneously combust. This show pony disrupts his class on the first day with her celebrity clout, and now she had the unmitigated gall to sleep in his class. Worse she didn't even react to the cannon of retribution? This could not stand. His face went an alarming shade of crimson.

Then without warning he was deathly calm. He galloped out of class leaving the door ajar. The assembled ponies hardly even breathed. They had no conception of what was going on. Had High Strung gone mad and stormed out of class? Distant shouting could be heard coming from the other buildings.

Eventually the brass section ponies started to file in one by one in stark silence. They arranged themselves like an orchestra would. The string ponies were now even more clueless. Then in short order the woodwinds filed in. Again not a word was said and not a sound was made by the entering ponies. Then followed the percussion section.

What in the black pits of tartarus was High Strung doing? Then the pony himself came in. He distributed sheet music to the whole orchestra. When Octavia's classmates saw the title of the music they were about to play it clicked. They each silently prayed to Celestia that Octavia would forgive them.

High Strung lifted his baton in his intense blue magic. And then they played it. Oh it was a terribly cruel piece they performed. The whole orchestra. Played the surprise symphony. Octavia never knew what hit her.

For those who don't know the legend of the surprise symphony, please allow us to explain. Back in the day a certain Noble kept falling asleep during the symphonies he'd commissioned. The composer felt slighted by his work going to waste on sleeping ears. So he wrote a symphony guaranteed to put this Noble to sleep.

Its first several bars are ever so gently soft. Almost like a lullaby. Gently floating woodwinds. Soft strings keeping time in the background. Brass as soft as it can still be heard. It puts one in mind of a gentle stream gurgling its way through a country side on a sunny spring afternoon. Then once it makes sure your good and comfortable. For one measure. It BLASTS!

The entire orchestra plays one single note double fortissimo. That is to say as loud as they can physically make their instrument make noise. Needless to say the Noble in question never slept through another one of that composer's symphonies ever again.

That song. That terrible piece of music. Was played by the entire Conservatory. For our poor exhausted little pony. As it's opening bars played Octavia's unconscious mind recognized it and tried to play along, the cellist swayed gently, impotently trying to pull out the notes. Oh and what a terrible thing when the double Fortissimo hit.

Octavia lept bodily into the air her cello clattering to the floor. She scrambled to pick it up and noticed the carnage. Five white spheres. Like five pupilless eyes staring blindly at her. She looked around and saw the entire Conservatory looking back at her. Thankfully no pony there was so crass as to laugh at her shame. They simply stared empathy radiating from every face but one.

High Strung was standing less than a foot away. Eyes as cold as the grave. Octavia tried to say something. Anything to try and repent of her sins but all that was heard in the concert hall was. "Pick. Them. Up." The cellist fell to the floor and scrambled to pick up the five white spheres which was hard enough to do without hands, but in her state took an agonizingly long time. She kept getting four in her hooves and while reaching for the fifth she would drop one. Finally. Mercifully. She got them all picked up and placed in High Strung's magical grasp.

Without a word he went back to the front of the room and the other sections filed out. Every one giving a parting look of ultimate empathy to the disgraced pony. Finally class could resume and the string section went back to it's sight reading.

For three bars. Then the concluding Bell rang. Octavia threw her beloved cello into its case and galloped out of the concert hall, tears streaming down her face. She galloped straight past the other sections some of which called out to her to stop but she just kept running. She ran all the way to her dormitory.

She unceremoniously dropped her cello case on the floor and buried her face in her pillow weeping bitterly. She cried harder than she ever had in her short life. She cried until sleep took her. She didn't have any classes for the whole weekend so she could sleep to her heart's content. When she awoke after a solid twenty hours of sleep the very first thing on her mind was. This cannot happen again.

"I have to tell them."