//------------------------------// // Hard Blows and Soft Landings // Story: Beats and Turnips // by Random_User //------------------------------// Beats and Turnips Chapter 1: Hard Blows and Soft Landings “I’m sorry, but we don’t require a general workpony anymore. I have to let you go.” Turnip sank towards the floor. He needed this job, badly. Canterlot was not a cheap place to live. Even with his modest apartment and frugal spending habits, he was finding it hard to make ends meet. Not having income would see him on the streets in just over a month. Turnip tried to keep the begging tone out of his voice as he asked, “Are you sure?” The manager’s curt, emotionless nod told him all he needed to know. “Oh. Well, is there another job that I could do? You know me, Paper, I’ll work my flank off for you wherever you need me, or to do whatever you need done.” A quick flash of regret went across Paper’s features. “I’m sorry Turnip, but I got my orders from the top. We’re close to going in the red. They thought a reduction in ‘non-essential’ personnel would be the best way to cut costs.” Even knowing that what Paper was doing was not personal, being let go still stung Turnip. “It’s alright; I’ll just have to find something else then.” Paper leaned over and looked out his door. After making sure that nopony was able to see or hear him, he retrieved a card from his a drawer, slid it across the desk, and whispered to Turnip, “I've got a friend that’s always looking for help. Show him this card, tell him Paper Pusher sent you, and you’ll have a good shot at getting some kind of position. It will probably be temporary, but it’s better than nothing.” Turnip took the card and quickly tucked it under his hat. “Thanks, getting any sort of job in this town is tough.” Paper came around from behind his desk and shook hooves with Turnip. “You’ve been one of our best workers. Don’t ever hesitate to use my name as a reference. I may not have as much pull as ponies like Fancy Pants, but I’ll do my best to make sure you get another position.” Turnip used his free hoof to tip his hat to Paper. “I’ll be sure to do that.” ***** Turnip looked down at the card, then back up at the building. He checked to make sure the address was right. To his dismay, it was. The building looked like it had not been painted in years. Most of the shutters for the upper story windows were in bad need of repair or missing entirely. The thing that really struck Turnip as odd was that the club, as dilapidated as it appeared, had a well-dressed bouncer guarding the door. He was taking down posters, and getting the boards ready for new ones. Turnip made his way across the street, and up to the bouncer. “The name’s Hayseed Turnip Truck. I’m here to see Bass Rhythm, if he’s available. I was sent by Paper Pusher.” He offered the card that Paper had given him, which the bouncer accepted. The bouncer smiled at Turnip’s country accent. “You’re a ways from home.” He hooved the card back to Turnip, and began to unlock the door. Turnip did not try to hide it. “Yep, all the way from Ponyville.” “That’s something; our deejay for the next week is from there. Maybe you two know each other.” The bouncer finally got the key to work in the rusty lock, and shoved the door open. Turnip offered his hoof to the muscular, oddly pink, stallion. “Thanks, mister…” “Hard Times, no mister needed,” the bouncer told Turnip, while shaking the offered hoof. “If I get hired, I’ll work on that door first thing,” Turnip promised. Times laughed, and waved off the offer. “Nah. Ponies wouldn’t know what to think if it actually worked like it's supposed to. Head straight into the back, then take a right. Rhythm’s door is second on the right down that hall.” “Much obliged.” Turnip walked into the building, and was shocked to see the inside was wholly different from the outside. The club was high scale. Sculpted glass, expensive lighting fixtures, and stylish furniture decorated not only the bar but also the various lounging areas. The raised dais reserved for deejays’ performances was stunning, and had every desirable and state of the art piece of musical equipment ready for use. The whole setup was impressive. So much so, that Turnip wondered if he was wasting his time coming to the club. He had run into bad attitudes from some of the Canterlot ponies for being from a small town, especially when they heard his hard accent. The black and white piebald barkeep stopped in her taking stock of the bar, took one look at Turnip, and politely informed him, “Sir, we’re not open for business at the moment. The show will start this evening at nine o’clock sharp.” “Thanks, but I’m not here for the show. I’m here for a job,” Turnip replied. “Thank Celestia and Luna both; we need all the help we can get! The last joker that was supposed to be helping us walked off the job two days ago.” The barkeep all but ran from behind the counter and shook Turnip’s hoof. She introduced herself, “Polished Shaker, pleasure to meet you.” “Hayseed Turnip Truck, pleasure’s all mine.” Shaker asked, with a more than a little worry in her voice, “Do you know anything about electrical work?” “Enough to get by at least, but I’m not certified,” he admitted, the look of relief that washed over the barkeep nearly made Turnip chuckle. Another voice came into the conversation, stating, “I don’t care if all you can do is screw in a light bulb. If you’re willing to help, you’re hired” Turnip turned to the fashionable vest wearing, brown-coated stallion. He immediately noted that the stallion had a bass clef as a cutie mark. “I can change light bulbs with the best of them, and I’ll help however I can,” Turnip responded, trying to sound confident in front of his possible boss. “Good, you’re hired. I’m Bass Rhythm, by the way.” Turnip held out Paper’s card to Rhythm, “I guess saying that Paper Pusher sent me is not all that important at this point.” Rhythm smiled, and told Turnip, “Nope, but it means that you’re exactly the kind of pony that we need. Now, here is what I need you to do.” ***** After half an hour of checking connections, testing equipment, and even looking the fuse box and breakers over, Turnip determined that there was only one possibility for why the speakers were not working. They were not plugged in. Turnip crawled his way towards the furthest corner from where the access hatch was located. Of course, the plugs happened to be concealed under the deejay’s platform, hidden from sight, and hard to access. He had figured out what happened by nearly tripping over one of the cables on the platform himself, and noticing the amount of slack in the power cord as it ran against his leg. Turnip muttered to himself, “One pony with four left hooves trips and pulls the power plug out of socket, and they don’t even have the dog-gone decency to tell anypony.” He wiggled a bit further, stirring up more dust, and finally reached his goal. He found the offending plug, plugged it back into the outlet, and was rewarded with the soft hum of speakers coming on directly above him. “My hero!” a voice called from the access hatch. The light under the platform dimmed, as a figure blocked the light in the opening. Turnip about hit his head on the low roof, as he jerked in surprise at both the voice and the fact that he recognized it. He told the figure, “Give me a minute, I’ll be right out. I don’t have much room to move under here.” “Just hold still, I’ll get you!” Before Turnip could respond, he felt the grip of a unicorn’s magic grab his back hooves. He was pulled from the crawlspace before he could fully prepare himself. He blinked a couple of times to try to adjust his eyes to the sudden change in light, as he got to his hooves. Despite being covered in dust, he found himself on the receiving end of a friendly embrace. He hugged the still blurry figure back. “That’s one heck of a ‘thank you’ for just plugging in a cord.” “Turnip, it’s me, Vinyl Scratch!” Vinyl tightened her hug on him a little more, before letting him go. “What the hay are you doing here?” His eyes adjusted to the light again, he smiled back at the now recognizable deejay. “Land sakes, Vinyl, I could ask you the same thing. I never thought I’d run into you here. I’m here for a job.” “Same here, well, at least for a week.” Vinyl brushed him, then herself off. “We’ve been trying to find out what was wrong with the speakers since this morning. Figures it was something so simple.” “Usually is.” Turnip turned and closed the hatch back up. “I would have thought a place like this would have their equipment all buttoned up and ready to go.” Vinyl pointed at the equipment proudly. “These babies are mine. Brand spanking new, state of the art, and can shake your eyeballs loose strong. That’s probably why the plug was out; somepony must have tripped over it while setting something else up for me.” Turnip whistled, looking back over the equipment with a new appreciation. “Whoa nelly, this setup must have set you back a fair pile of bits.” “It did, but I consider it a business investment,” Vinyl told him. “Enough shop talk, I owe you lunch for figuring out what was wrong and getting yourself dirty for me.” Turnip ducked his head, and rubbed the back of his neck with a hoof. “You don’t have to do that. The hug made everything more than even, as far as I reckon.” Vinyl slid her shades down her nose, gave Turnip a look, raised an eyebrow, and asked, “You’re turning down lunch over a hug?” Turnip blushed, and fumblingly told her, “When it’s from a famous lady like you, yep. I didn’t do anything worth your time.” “You dolt, take her up on the offer!” Shaker instructed Turnip, from behind the bar. Vinyl gave Turnip a mock-hurt look. “You’re saying you don’t want to get a bite to eat with me?” Turnip shook his head frantically. “It’s not that! I just have a lot to get done before tonight.” He looked down to the floor. “I would love to have lunch with you, but I need this job and it’s my first day. I can’t leave right now.” “For Celestia’s sake, you two get over here,” Shaker instructed. She pointed to the seats on the other side of the counter. “Neither of you are going out. You’re both having lunch right here. The house rules are that employees eat free. Sit your tails down.” Knowing by her tone they did not want to argue with her, Vinyl and Turnip did as they were told. As Shaker worked on their lunches, Times joined them at the bar. He nodded at the two Povyvillians. “You two do know each other then.” “Yep, we went to school together,” Turnip informed Times. “I wasn’t expecting to see him. But there he was, crawling under the platform.” Vinyl nudged Turnip. “He’s as helpful as always.” She glanced back at the platform, as she thought of something. “I left the speakers on. I’ll be right back; I don’t want them on without music coming through them.” Turnip watched her go, drawing a giggle from Shaker. “Just one hug is all it takes for you?” she asked, teasing him. Turnip turned red, and informed her, “I’ve had a thing for her since we were in school. It doesn’t matter though.” Shaker, being a good barkeep and sympathetic ear, asked, “Why not? You seem like a nice enough stallion.” Turnip shrugged. “She’s always been too far above me.” “Uh oh, now you’ve done it,” Times told Turnip, with a grimace. Shaker scolded him, “I will not accept that kind of talk from anypony! You’re not lower than anypony else. You should tell her right…” Times interrupted, postponing Shaker’s aggressive pep talk, “She’s coming back, now’s not a good time to chew his ears off.” “Alright, what did I miss? I heard Shaker giving it to somepony,” Vinyl asked, as she sat back down. “Nothing much, I just poked a little fun at her for the way she was making my salad. She knows I like ranch dressing, not Thousand Island, and she forgot. She was just poking back,” Times smoothly lied. Shaker put a salad, sans Thousand Island dressing, in front of Times. “Here you go hon.” As Shaker placed their salads in front of them, Turnip and Vinyl’s eyes went back and forth between Shaker and Times. Vinyl could not help but ask, “Hon?” Times grinned. “Shaker and I are married, have been for a while now to tell the truth.” “Not that long, we’re still young.” Shakers eyes narrowed playfully, as she asked, “Or are you saying that it seems like a long time?” In response, Times reached over, lifted Shaker off her hooves, half pulled her over the bar, and kissed her deeply. As he broke the kiss, he told her, “If anything, I would have liked to be with you longer.” He put her back down, smiling and looking into her eyes the entire time. Shaker blushed a wonderful shade of red, and swatted Times on the shoulder. “It’s not my fault you didn’t ask me out, you big lug!” “I know, and I wish I had sooner,” he confessed. She smiled, and lightly berated him, “I thought we agreed, no PDAs at work.” “It’s lunch, we’re off the clock,” he pointed out, in between bites of his salad. “A technicality, but I’ll let it slide this once.” Shaker motioned towards Vinyl and Turnip, and tried to point out, “What if they didn’t want to see you smash lips with me?” Vinyl waved her fork in the art, indicating everything was all right by her. “Don’t worry about us. I’m certainly not going to complain. There’s nothing like a little show with your meal, right Turnip?” Turnip did not trust himself to speak, and merely gave a quick nod in response. Times grinned in victory. He teased Shaker, “You’re quite the prude for a mare that dances like you do.” Turnip asked Shaker, “You dance and keep the bar?” Shaker gave him a wink, and teased, “If Vinyl is willing to let me on stage, you just might see me tonight.” “Vinyl is very willing,” the deejay enthusiastically let her know. ***** Having finished the repair, Turnip checked the sink’s u-bend one last time. The thrumming music from the dance floor could be heard and felt in the bathroom, where he was laying down among his tools. Somepony stepped into the bathroom, despite the sign Turnip had put on the door. Turnip informed the pony, “Sorry sir, the bathroom’s out of order at the moment. I’ll have this done, and be out of here in just a minute.” Rhythm’s voice held a good bit of appreciation, as he told Turnip, “You’ve worked your flank off all day. I really appreciate it, now get out there and enjoy the show. Everything is just starting, and Vinyl hasn’t even gotten warmed up yet.” “Thanks, but I’m ten kinds of dirty and nasty.” Turnip rolled his way from under the sink. “I’d hate to brush up against somepony and mess up their clothes or coat.” He started to put his tools back in their case, and told Rhythm, “I’m not much of a dancer anyway.” “I’m not either, but I still get out there at least a couple of times a week.” Rhythm pulled out a key from his vest pocket, and gave it to Turnip. “There is a staff shower down through the door at the end of his hall, which that key opens, and to your right. Put your tools up, take a shower, and if I don’t see you out there dancing in a half hour, don’t bother coming in tomorrow.” Turnip grinned up at his boss. “Yes, sir!” After putting up his tools, and taking a quick shower, Turnip found himself on the edge of the dance floor. He could not make himself jump into the crowd. Shaker surprised him by patting him on the shoulder. “You should be out there, moving your tail,” she told him, waving a hoof towards the crowd. “I know, but I’m horrible dancer.” She pointed out Rhythm, who was making a fool of himself trying to dance and loving every moment of it. “You can’t do as badly as he does. I’ve tried to teach him, Celestia knows, but he just can’t dance.” “I’ve still got a couple of minutes left before I have to go out there. I think I’ll wait till then,” he told her. She leaned in and whispered, “If you don’t get out there right now, I won’t dance during Vinyl’s next set, which would make her sad. You don’t want that to happen, do you?” Turnip smiled, and lightly protested, “That’s a mite bit on the low side.” He stepped out onto the dance floor, needing no further encouragement. Shaker yelled to him, over the noise, “Yeah, but it worked though!” Turnip danced the night away, not tripping over his own hooves as badly as he had feared he would. Shaker was as good as her word, and danced with surprising skill on the deejay’s platform during Vinyl’s next set. After her performance, business at the bar picked up and Shaker and her fellow barkeep, Cold Mug, had to race to keep up with their patron’s orders. After the club closed up, and the cleanup, Rhythm called the club’s workers together. He announced, “We did very well tonight, thanks to the wonderful DJ Pon-3 and all your efforts. Everypony get some rest, we start again at nine o’clock tomorrow. Set up crew, you need to be here at seven. We have some theme lighting to put up. That’s all. Thank you again, and have a safe trip home.” The small crowd of workers disbanded. Turnip bashfully offered to walk Vinyl to her hotel, and she accepted with a smile. The two ponies caught up as they walked, making the night even more enjoyable for the both of them. Everything went well, until Vinyl tried to get into her room at the hotel. “What do you mean you’ve lost my reservation?! I set this up months ago so this wouldn’t happen,” Vinyl fumed at the pony behind the hotel’s check-in counter. “I’m sorry mam, but it appears there was a mistake and the room was double-booked. I’m afraid we don’t have another room available, as there is a big fashion show in town and every room has been reserved.” “Fat lot of good reserving a room did me,” Vinyl said, her tone icy. Turnip asked, “Who got the room instead of Vinyl?” The greeter looked at Turnip down his nose. “And you are?” Vinyl barely kept herself under control, as she told the greeter, “My buddy, Turnip, and answer the question or I’ll make sure to mention how well treated I was at this place during my next show.” “No need for that. It’s Blue Blood,” the greeter quickly revealed. “Figures,” Vinyl all but spit. “Do you have any suggestions as to where I can go?” Vinyl asked. “Our sister hotels are booked solid. I’m sure the Wind Soar and the Merry Trot are completely booked too, so I don’t know what to tell you.” Turnip tentatively offered, “You could stay at my place, if you can’t find anything.” The greeter sneered at Turnip, and told Vinyl, “Mam, I assure you I can find something better than his abode. Even the Red Tiled Barn would be…” Vinyl slammed her hoof down on the counter, drawing every eye in the commons. She made sure to use a stage voice, as she tore into the greeter, “My roomed got double booked, I can live with that. Mistakes happen. Nopony, especially a want-to-be jerk like you, insults my friends. I will be giving this place a negative shout out during my next show, and you can take my reservation and shove it up so far up your tail that a proctologist couldn’t get it back out!” Vinyl stomped out of the hotel, followed by Turnip and some scattered applause. After she cooled off a little, she apologized to Turnip, “Sorry the guy was such a jerk. I’ll never do business with them again.” “It’s alright, I’m used it.” “You shouldn’t be. You’re a nice stallion, and nopony should treat you otherwise.” Vinyl made a show of dramatically looking up and down the street. “Alright, which way do we need to go to get to your place?” Turnip swallowed. “You sure you want to crash at my place? There might be someplace with a room.” “I don’t care; I’ve had enough with the hotels in this town.” She poked him, and teased, “What, you leave your place a wreck or what?” After he shook his head to answer, Vinyl continued, “I don’t care if you have trash all over the place or not, it’s almost sunrise, I’m beat, and I won’t turn down such a kind offer.” “Alright, since you insist, this way.” He led her to his apartment. They got there just as the sun was coming up. He let her in first, and then shut the door behind him, as he followed her. “Heck of day, yesterday.” “You got that right. Thanks for letting me crash your place, now where’s the couch?” “You’re not sleeping on the couch. You can have my bed.” “Not happening.” “Vinyl, I can’t have you sleeping on the couch. That would just be wrong.” He paused as she made her way back towards the door. “What are you doing?” Vinyl had put her hoof on the door handle, and had been in the process of turning it when Turnip asked his question. “I’m going to find a hotel; I’m not taking your bed. Chivalry is nice, but it’s dead.” Turnip relented. “Alright, the couch is in here.” He got her a blanket, his best pillow, and made sure she was comfortable. As she took off her shades, she thanked him again, “You’re too sweet, I appreciate it Turnip.” She half sat-up after not getting a response. “You alright there bud? Equestria to Turnip, tune in, please.” “I forgot how pretty your eyes are.” He blushed, realizing what he had just said. She smiled at the genuine compliment. “You’re a flirt, when your sleep deprived. Go to bed Turnip, we’ve got another long night ahead of us.” He followed Vinyl's suggestion, and tucked himself in his bed. His last thought, before sinking into sleep, his last thought was, What a horrible, wonderful, and wild day. To top everything off, Vinyl Scratch herself is staying in my apartment. Luna, please don’t let this be a dream, and don’t let me make a fool of myself any more than I already have.