Read it or die. (HoIaSoF updates)

It's almost done, just a few more minutes and it'll be ready for uploading.

What's that I hear you say? Nothing. Oh, ok then.

Too bad nobody reads these, or they'd know EVERYTHING about my stories.

SNEAK PEAK:

The crowd roared. They didn’t cheer, nor did they clap or yell, they just roared. The noise echoed around the hall, filling each and every one of it’s occupants with an incredible Ecstasy.

“Fillies and gentlecolts. Are you ready for the ride of your life?” A voice boomed over the speakers that hung each corner of the room. The crowd roared in response, stamping their hooves against the hard wooden floor.

“Well then, allow me introduce to you: the most accomplished artist in all of Equestria; the only pony to have over twenty platinum albums; the mare of music herself; Vinyl Scratch!” Another roar, this one deafening. The lights in the room cut off, causing a few stifled gasps from the assembled audience. The stage lit up, one single light shoning downwards, illuminating a small desk. The desk’s only occupant was a small record player, out-dated and looking slightly worse for wear. The needle on the player dropped downwards, illuminated only briefly by an aura of blue mist. It scratched against the vinyl that sat beneath it, causing it to crackle and pop. Soft music began to play, slowly at first, creeping out at a comfortable speed, but speeding as other instruments began to start.The sounds of Violins and cellos filled the air, backed up only by the soft sound of a double bass, playing quietly in the background.

The light on the stage spread outwards, enveloping the rest of the stage with it’s warm glow. Vinyl Scratch stood behind a small desk on the other side of the stage, nodding her head slowly in time with the music. She lifted her hoof up and brought it down towards the top of the table, stopping slightly before she smashed into it. She lowered her hoof the rest of the way, bringing it into contact with a record that spun slowly on the needle. She pushed forwards, and it began to spin faster, bringing forth another set of crackles and pops. The speakers that sat nearest to her began to purr, and a simple kick then snare beat resonated from within them. A high-hat filled in the empty spaces left by the percussion’s pattern, bouncing slightly as it was crashed into by the drummer’s stick. A synth line faded in slowly, playing only in the highest register, yet still adding melody where there was none before. The crowd began to stamp their hooves in time with the beat, causing the floor to vibrate with the sheer amount of force they created.

A few loud whistles escaped from the crowd, general reactions from the type of ponies that came to visit Vinyl’s shows. The drummer stopped, leaving only the violins and the synth line to continue playing alone. The kick drum came in, slamming down on every beat and causing the assembled ponies to stamp in time. The pitch of the music began to rise, steadily increasing the speed of the song. The build of pitch and speed reached it’s climax, then cut off, leaving the hall silent.

The listeners all lifted themselves upwards, as if in anticipation. Not a sound broke the blissful silence that filled the room, everypony holding their breath for what came next.

Then, the bass fell.

It kicked in, hard, smashing against Vinyl with the force of a truck. She felt her ears numb with the sudden explosion of distorted noise. She lowered her hoof towards the dial labeled ‘bass’, clasping it in the nook that was created when she bent her leg. She twisted, and the bass raised in pitch, swinging wildly as she twisted and turned the knob. The crowd roared their approval, bringing their heads down with every new fluctuation of the bass.

END SNEAK PEAK.

That right there, is the intro to my new shipping fic, titled 'Dropping the Bass'.

Japan in ten hours! (Well, ten until I leave. Another eight hours after that.)