//------------------------------//
// The Second Verse 
// Story: Leave The World Behind 
// by Davidism 
//------------------------------//

When Octavia had finished washing her hooves in the bathroom, she went in search of Vinyl Scratch. It didn't take her long. As soon as she exited the bathroom and made for the living room, she heard what sounded like drum beats emanating from the music room. Rolling her eyes, she trotted into the bedroom, and saw Vinyl Scratch sitting on a drum stool, and smacking the two toms of the drum kit with two sticks. 
Clearing her throat as load as she could, Vinyl stopped banging on the drums, and turned to look her way. “Can I help you?”
“That's my line,” Octavia said, stepping in further, and frowning. “I don't think you should be touching Howard's things without his permission.”
“Don't be such a downer!” Vinyl said, striking the snare a few times and nodding her head with each strike. “If we're going to teach the guy anything, we need access to the stuff.”
There was a muffled thumping from somewhere in the apartment, and both Octavia and Vinyl looked around trying to determine where it was coming from. Hitting the snare three times in succession, Vinyl waited, and after a few seconds there were three more muffled thuds from what sounded like the ceiling.
“That's odd,” Octavia said. 
“Yeah, really odd.” Looking over the drums, Vinyl grinned widely. “Let's see what happens when I do this!”
Kicking the bass drum, and rolling the two drum sticks over the toms for a few seconds, she finished the miniature solo with a generous bass-kick and cymbal crashes.
Smiling and waiting, Vinyl Scratch heard four heavy thuds from the ceiling. It seemed they were almost right on top of her. 
“I never thought your music would be so bad, that even a ceiling hates it,” Octavia said, frowning.
“You should hear some of that cat wailing you do on Chell sometimes.”
There were four more loud thuds, and then Vinyl Scratch jumped off the drum stool, and pounded the bass drum pedal repeatedly. “Stupid ceiling! What do you know!?”
“Vinyl stop! You're going to break Howard's drums, and he's not going to like that. He already thinks were hallucinations. We don't want to be thrown out for breaking things.”
“Fine!” she said, hitting the petal once more. “It's cool. The ceiling is stupid anyway.”
“I'm not so sure it was the ceiling, I was just saying that to—”
Octavia was cut short by a sudden pounding on the front door. Both she and Vinyl Scratch exchanged glances, and moved into the living room to see what the disturbance was.
“I know your in there, you son of a bitch!” 
There was someone pounding on Howard's front door, and they were yelling obscenities at him. Octavia just shook her head. The poor fool didn't know that Howard was already gone.
“Do you hear me Hall!?”
“Do you suppose we should tell them that Howard is gone?” Vinyl asked. 
Octavia shook her head. “He said to keep out of sight.” There was more pounding. “I wonder what's got that human so worked up?”
“I swear to God, that if I didn't have to work the graveyard shift tonight, I would drop bulldozers right over your bedroom! Do you hear me? The Super is going to be hearing about this!”
“What a strange place this is,” Octavia said, as she sat on the carpet in front of the door and stared at it. 


—|—|—


Seated behind his desk in the manager's office during his lunch break, Howard flipped through a local phone book between bites from his energy bar he had purchased from the vending machine. His first thoughts had been to find a nice quiet low profile psychiatrist; but considering that he was a massive consumer of alcohol during his nights at the clubs, he figured he might would need a doctor.
Finding a local family practitioner that specialized in substance abuse, he considered dialing the number but stopped short. He wasn't a drug user, so perhaps they wouldn't be best. He was about to close the book in frustration when he came upon a center for neurology, and a light went off in his head. Maybe what he needed was a brain doctor.
He tapped in the number, and waited for the call to connect. He was greeted by the center's receptionist. 
It was the usual routine. They ask him all sorts of questions, he answered to the best of his abilities; but it was when the woman on the other end of the line asked about the specifics of his wanting a scan of his brain, he was hesitant to answer.
“I think I'm experiencing hallucinations,” he said. “And not the normal ones, like Elvis or Jesus, or Gandhi... I'm talking about the real disturbing ones.”
“Can you describe them for me?”
“I'd rather not, it will sound somewhat insane; and I'm not looking for that kind of doctor.”
“If I don't have a complete list of your ailments Mister Hall, then the physician won't know how to diagnose you.”
That was suddenly a terrifying word to Howard. The idea of being diagnosed was somehow more frightening than actually seeing the ponies in his house. 
“Mister Hall?”
“Uh, yeah. I'm still here,” he said. “Okay. I'm seeing two horses in my house.”
“Horses?”
“Yes ma'am, two of them. And they... say things.” Christ this was starting to sound more like crazy talk and nothing medical. He waited on the line for a long grueling pause.
“Is there anything else? Besides the horses that is.”
“Uh... nope. That's it. Just talking horses. Oh and they drink coffee,” Howard said. “I don't know how important that is, but you can put that down.”
“Right.” There was another pause. “So let me make sure that I've got all this. You have sustained no head trauma recently.”
“Nope.”
“No sudden migraines, and no visual issues.”
“Nope.”
“You haven't experienced any stomach upset, nausea, or vomiting, and you have not consumed any expired products.”
“Uh-huh.”
“There's been no drug usage, or barbiturates.”
“No, ma'am.”
“The only thing you have done recently was consume large quantities of alcoholic beverages. Correct?”
“That's right.”
“Do you happen to remember consuming, Absinthe?”
Howard had to thing about that one. There was usually a heavy spread of booze at most of the parties that he attended or performed at; but he couldn't remember any Absinthe. “No, I don't think there was any of that. But of course I can't be sure, to be perfectly honest.”
"So... how soon can you guys fix me?" Howard asked after waiting again for the woman to say something.
"Well, unfortunately Mister Hall, we have to first find out what's wrong with you, before we can try to determine the best method for fixing you."
"So then, there is something wrong with me?" he said. 
"Most definitely. People don't usually see talking horses, Mister Hall."
There was another pause on the line, and Howard could hear some heavy fast typing through the receiver. Hurriedly he shoved the rest of his energy bar into his mouth, and chewed. His cheek was bulged, and his tongue was incapacitated, when the receptionist came back on the line. "Mister Hall?"
Howard chewed as fast as he could to clear his mouth enough to answer her, but realized that might would mean choking; so he simply stopped chewing, and hummed, "Mm mmm."
"There is an opening tomorrow afternoon at two thirty with Doctor Gutierrez. Can I put you down?"
Rolling his eyes in frustration at the bite he was forcing down, he finally pounded his chest, and took the whole swallow. Then a deep breath. "Yeah! Yes, that's fine. Two thirty tomorrow afternoon."
Hanging up, Howard, left his office, and walked back into the break room to get a soda. Walking up to the soda machine, he fished in his pocket for some change, when one of the employees walked up to him, and handed him a phone message.
"What's this?" he asked, taking the note, and looking it over. 
"You were on the phone when you got a call from your building's superintendent."
Reading the note carefully, Howard frowned. "What, now?"
"Apparently there was some kind of noise violation there, and he was calling to inform you about it."
"From my apartment?" Howard said, letting the change in his hand fall back into his pocket. 
The employee just nodded her head, and blinked at him. "That's what he said. He said it sounded like someone was pounding on some drums."
"Well I wish I'd gotten this before I made that call," Howard said with irritation. 
"Which call?"
"The one for the... never mind! Just get back to work."
If there was noise coming from his apartment, then it meant two things to Howard. One; he was now sure that they were real, because it meant that, others in the apartment could hear them. Two; it meant that he was pretty sure it was Mister Hockney on the floor above him that lodged the complaint, and he was going to have to do some major ass-kissing when he got home.
Shaking his head, Howard proceeded to violently tear the phone message to little pieces, not bothering which of the employees saw him. "Stupid ponies!"


—|—|—


With the refrigerator wide open, Vinyl Scratch stared at all the various foods and items in there. She was having a hard time deciding which of them were edible, and which were not. Howard had said that there were snacks in there, but he had failed to mention which ones were the actual snacks.
"How hard is it to find food?" asked Octavia as she paced the kitchen behind Vinyl. "Just grab something that looks like oats or hay."
"That's just it, I don't think this guy eats that stuff." 
"Well, there has to be something. Let me take a look," she said, moving to shove Vinyl away.
"Hold your nickers, I think I found something." Bringing out a roll of cranberry bread, she presented it to Octavia with a beaming grin. "Lunch is served."
"Does he have any grass water?"
"Didn't see any of that. There's some water in little hard bottles, and then there's milk."
"Oh, I want milk."
"Milk it is," Vinyl said, as she set the bread on the table, and pulled out the gallon of milk with both hooves. "Here, you open this stuff up, and I'll find us some glasses."
Going to where the coffee cups were kept, Vinyl used her magic to open the cupboard, and bring down two more cups. Placing them on the table next to the milk, she used her magic to then pour the milk, once Octavia removed the plastic cap. 
"Make sure you put this back where you found it," Octavia said, after Vinyl had finished pouring them both a cup of milk. 
"What did you think I was gonna do? We are guests here, you know." Shaking her head, Vinyl levitated the milk back to the refrigerator. Then turning to Octavia, she said, "What now?"
"Let's find a place to eat."
Once they had everything on the floor in the living room, Octavia watched as Vinyl scrutinized the hi-def television. She was standing in front of it, rubbing her hoof to her chin. "Usually there's always a power switch."
Taking note of the brand name on the front of the TV, Octavia pointed a hoof at the remote, and said, "What about that. It has the same markings as the screen."
"Good eye, Ocee." Grabbing the remote, Vinyl scrutinized it and found what she was looking for. A small red button near the top of the row of buttons. Pressing it with her magic, she jumped slightly in surprise, as the television snapped to life, and the two ponies were met with HBO, and The Sopranos for the first time in their lives. It just so happened to be a scene from "Johnny Cakes" where Vito and Jim are going at it, and Vito had a pipe. 
"I don't like violent movies," Octavia said. "Is there a way to see if it does something else, or if something else is showing?"
"Hmm. There are some little buttons here with arrows on them going up and down. Maybe one of them will work." Pressing the up button with her magic, the screen changes, and they are presented with another channel, and this time, Tom Hanks, and Meg Ryan kissing.
"I said I didn't want to watch anything violent; that human is clearly devouring the female's face." Octavia brought her hoof up to shield her eyes.
"I don't think so," Vinyl Scratch said, looking more closely. "I think they're kissing."
"K... kissing?" Bringing her hoof down, Octavia leaned closer and looked. "That's not kissing."
"Well, maybe not to us, but it is for humans." Scooting closer to Octavia, Vinyl put her hoof around her, and leaned in making smooching noises. "Wanna give it a try; heaven knows you haven't done much kissing with any colts lately."
"Get off. You're one to talk," Octavia said, as she shoved on Vinyl's shoulder. 
Suddenly the idea of kissing, had them laughing, and Octavia pointed at the screen. "So let's see how humans kiss," she said, and took a bite of her cranberry bread. 
For the next three hours, the two of them sat in front of Howard's television watching chick-flicks and laughing at the complications of human romance.


—|—|—


For the last two hours of his shift, Howard had done little besides stare into various voids while doing his job. One moment he would be at the counter assisting an employee with an errant register. The next, he would be scuttling across the sales floor checking the pricing labels on computer printers, and all-in-one copy machines. Eventually, Howard ended up in his office, sitting behind his desk, staring off at the wall, and ignoring the calls that were coming in for him.
When he failed to come to a customer service issue at the register, Harv went looking for him. "What the hell are you doing?"
Looking up sharply from his blank far-away stare, Howard said, "What?"
"I said, 'what the hell... are you doing in here?'"
"I'm having a very bad day Harv."
"Oh, boo-hoo, tell me another one. The day's over and you've spent most of it hiding."
"What did you say?"
"What are you deaf as well as lazy?" Harv said. "The day is over, you've pissed away most of it."
Bolting up from behind his desk, Howard all but tore the frame off when he ran into it, and kept going straight for the front of the store. 
"You forgot to clock out, dumb-ass! Aww forget it!"
The drive back to his apartment was another exercise in impatience, and Howard did his best to calm himself. He had been relatively under control that morning, because he was operating under the false assumption that the two ponies were figments of his imagination. Now that he had more solid proof that they were real, his brain spun with a hundred different possible logic-shattering conclusions and world-changing scenarios that awaited for him back at his one safe harbor: his home.
When he pulled into the parking garage of the apartment, he found his spot, and pulled forward, nearly hitting his bumper against the wall, and with a loud groan, parked and disengaged the engine. Taking a few deep breaths, he twisted the rear-view mirror and gave his appearance a checking; realizing that he had left work in his cap and name tag.
With a faint hint of disgust, he took them off, and sat them in the seat next to him. He had enough on his mind that, he didn't need to be reminded of work and world skipping talking coffee-consuming ponies.
When he arrived outside the door to his apartment, he took a few deeps breaths, and inserted the key in the lock. Unsure what to expect, he twisted it, and the door knob at the same time, and swung the door open. What he expected to see was two fire-breathing ponies hovering off the floor and enraged at his doubt, and unbelief; instead he saw the two of them curled up next one another on the carpet in front of the television.
Octavia was the first to notice that he had entered, and waved at him, "Hello. Welcome back."
Vinyl Scratch responded similarly, as Howard lightly stepped into the living room, and sat his keys on the coffee table. he took a quick glance around the apartment, half expecting it to be ruined or trashed; but there was nothing out of the ordinary. They hadn't pulled a John Bonham or Jimi Hendrix. No setting any instruments on fire, or tossing televisions out the window. They had behaved themselves.
Sliding down into the recliner, he rubbed his hands across his face, and regarded the two of them, as they sat there and watched him closely. "Hi," he said. 
The two looked at one another, and frowned. "Hello?" they said in unison.
"I just... ju... just wanted to apologize. For this morning. That is, I uh, I owe you two an apology, because you're real, and I'm a dumb-ass."
"Hey, it's cool," Vinyl said, as she stretched out on the floor and laid on her side; propping her head up with her hoof. "I'm sure if you suddenly popped up in the middle of one of my gigs and started spouting wishes and junk, I'd be like, 'Yo partner, back that the hell up and give me a better running start.' Yeah?"
Both Howard and Octavia exchanged looks, and said, "What?"
Vinyl said, "Huh?"
"Never mind," Howard said, settling back into his recliner. "The fact is, I now believe you, so there. For what it's worth."
"If you don't mind me asking," said Octavia, as she regarded vinyl as she scratched at her stomach with her hoof, in an un-marelike manner. "What was it that finally convinced you?"
"Oh yeah," Howard said, leaning forward in his chair. "I got a call from the building superintendent. He said there was a noise complaint from the guy upstairs. Something about loud drumming."
Cutting her eyes at Vinyl, Octavia cleared her throat at her friend. 
Vinyl Scratch feigned innocence. "Loud drumming, huh... you don't say?"
"Vinyl!"
"So it was you!" Howard said, collapsing back in his chair.
"Well, how was I supposed to know you weren't alone in this house."
"It's not a house. It's an apartment building, it's huge, and there are small houses inside it, on each level. The guy above mine is a total douche-bag, and hates it when I crank up my music."
"So that's what that noise was from the ceiling," Vinyl said, nodding her head. "I thought the ceiling hated my playing."
"No just him," Howard said, letting out a small groan. "He probable beat on his floor to shut up the noise, then stormed down here and pounded on my door."
"That's about right," said Octavia. "We're very sorry."
Waving his hand absently in the air, Howard said, "Nah, it's alright. He's a jerk. It's my fault for not mentioning it sooner. It's because of this cramped living condition, that I have to go practice at my friend's house. He has a studio apartment above a warehouse, and we can make as much noise as we want there." Feeling a twang of hunger, Howard rubbed his hands together. "So, listen. To make up for that whole, not thinking you two were real thing, this morning; how about I go buy us some food for dinner?"
"Now you're talking, tiny," Vinyl said, as she sprawled on her back on the floor, and rubbed her stomach. "Me likey food!"
Letting out a small gasp, Octavia walked over, and tapped Vinyl Scratch with her hoof. "Vinyl, you should be more modest, you're showing off." Looking over at Howard, she smiled, and giggled embarrassingly loud.
Howard wasn't entirely sure he understood, until he looked down, and saw that in the position Vinyl Scratch was laying, she was completely spread-eagle, and showing off more than just her stomach. Suddenly feeling heat build in his cheeks, Howard looked up at the ceiling.
"Aww, let him look. He won't see anything finer." Vinyl said; sticking out her tongue, and rubbing her stomach more.


—|—|—


Standing outside apartment, four-zero-six, Howard knocked, and waited. He knew eventually he would have to face the music, though he never expected to be facing it for someone else. After about thirty seconds, there was the sound of heavy foot falls, and the door opened. Taking a deep breath, and letting it out slowly, Howard remained as stoic as he could manage, as he came face to face with the occupant of the apartment above his, Adolf Hockney. Known far and wide as the S.S. of the complex; the Gestapo of Tenants; the Hitler of the Fourth Floor, and Satan's Bitch.
For the longest moment in the history of Howard's life, he stood outside in the hallway; looking up at the six foot three inch Hockney, and felt every bit of his own five foot eight inches want to wither under the heaviness of each passing second.
"There was some noise coming from your place, Hall," Hockney said. 
"Uh... yeah. Ahem...yup, there was."
"I had to notify the super."
"Yes... thank you, for that... I mean, uh... thanks for bringing it to my attention," Howard was feeling his life-force begin to wither under the blackness of Hockney's soul. 
"Some of us work nights, Hall."
"Right. I completely understand... and... "
"And?"
"And, well, it won't happen again."
"Uh-huh." Hockney, leaned further through the door. "What I want to know, is how you could be banging your shit, if you were at work."
"That's because, I have talking horses in my apartment," Howard said, hoping that he could offset the tense situation.
"Are you trying to be, funny?"
Well, it was a nice shot, but it failed. "Yes, I am."
"Care to explain?"
"My sister and her daughter are visiting, and uh... the little one, she got on the drums, and started going to town on them."
"I didn't know you had a sister."
Nodding his head profusely, Howard lied through his teeth. "Oh yeah, yeah... she's foreign. I mean, she usually lives in foreign countries, and stuff, and doesn't get the chance to get home."
"So it was the kid?"
"Yeah... s'right. Uh-huh."
For the span of several heartbeats, the Hitler of the Forth Floor eyed Howard, then receded back slightly into his apartment door. "Well, in that case. It's cool. So long as they know that some of us have jobs at night, and sleep during the day."
"Oh, absolutely, they know. I made sure to bring the god-damn hammer down. That little one wasn't spared anything, I let her have it, and then let her have it some-more."
"That's what I like to hear. I'll swing by on my way in tomorrow, and let the super know."
"Oh, that won't be necessary; I already told him. He's perfectly fine with it, and I explained it... so there's no need, to uh, to mention it... at all."
When Hockney closed the door, Howard felt some of his life-force return to him. Strength once again surged through his legs, and his stomach ceased its endless looping. With a final shiver through his backbone, he regarded the door of Satan's Bitch, and slowly backed away. Now that his brush with death was out of the way, he could go back to living a full and happier life. 


—|—|—


When Howard returned from getting fast food, and his brief encounter with the Gestapo of Tenants; he entered his apartment, and saw Octavia and Vinyl Scratch sitting on the couch, rolling with laughter. 
"Hey you two, what's so funny?"
"You have to see this show, dude... it's like the best thing I've ever seen!" Vinyl Scratch was holding her sides with one hoof, and pointing with the other. 
Setting the bags of food down on the coffee table, Howard looked at the television, and saw a bright blue mongoose cowering outside of what looked like a giant pet store; and some bobble-head girl speaking to him in a headset. "Uh."
"It's called, Littlest Pet Shop," Octavia said, grinning.
"What the, huh?" Howard said, causing Octavia and Vinyl Scratch to gasp and stare at him. 
"That's what that Blythe girl says!" Vinyl said, jumping on the couch. "Are you sure you aren't a secret fan?"
"I will admit to nothing!" Howard said, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to the coffee table, and reaching for the bag. "But if you want food, then you better get it while it's still hot."
"Right-on!" Vinyl said, leaping off the couch, and sliding up next to Howard. "So what do you got?"
"I went the quick route, and got cheese burgers, and fries." Howard passed one to Octavia, and one to Vinyl, before placing one in front of himself. he was so preoccupied with fishing out the bags of french-fries, that he failed to notice the looks of confusion the two ponies were giving him, until Vinyl tapped him on his arm.
"Pardon, but, what exactly is a cheese burger?" Octavia said, as she slowly unwrapped the bundle. "It smells wonderful, but I can't say as I've ever had one before."
As Howard sat the last of the fries down in front of Octavia, Vinyl used her magic, and unwrapped hers, licking her lips. "It's a cheese burger," he said, "you know, beef, cheese, lettuce, tomato, and oni... on... " He watched as Vinyl Scratch had the burger up to her muzzle and had her mouth open wide, when the light went off in his head, and every red flag inside him began dancing on their flag-poles.
"STOP!" he yelled, throwing his hands out across the coffee table, in front of all of them. 
"Damn, dude!" Vinyl said, as she brought the burger down. "Don't have a spazz-attack."
"You can't eat those," Howard said, breathing heavy. "I wasn't thinking... you just, sorry, my mistake."
"I don't understand," Octavia said. "Why can't we?"
"Because, they have beef in them," Howard said quietly. "It's just wrong."
"What's beef?"
"It's beef, you know meat?" Instantly, Octavia dropped her burger back onto the wrapper, and regarded Howard with a ill expression.
"You eat, meat?" she asked.
Howard nodded. 
"What kind of meat is it?" Vinyl asked, using her magic to separate the bun and peer at the contents.
"It's beef, beef... you know, cow?"
"Oh my dear," Octavia said. "I didn't realize that you were a meat eater. You don't, uh, eat ponies do you?"
"Yeah, sure... I've got a whole package of pony steaks in the refrigerator there next to the severed heads. Of course I don't eat ponies!" 
"Tell me again why I can't eat this?" Vinyl said, closing the buns together and smelling the cheese burger.
"Because, it's just morally wrong. Feeding a cow to a horse, is just... trust me it's wrong. I'll admit if it was a cowboy and I was feeding you that, then there would be some twisted sense of irony to it; but I can't in good conscience let you eat that."
Sharing a brief look with Octavia, Vinyl shrugged her shoulders. "Hey, you know what they say... when in Roam, right?" Before Howard could protest, she took a huge bite, and rolled her eyes. "Oh, sweet stars; this is good." 
Howard and Octavia both looked on as she chewed on her bite of cheese burger. Howard felt sick to his stomach, and Octavia clearly looked indecisive. 
"Hey, Ocee, you gotta try this cow. It's really tasty."
Despite Howard's protests, Octavia's stomach was the ultimate deciding factor. Reluctantly she brought the cheese burger up with her hooves, and said, "We will tell no pony of this."