The subwoofer kicked it's surroundings, shaking the desk above it as well as the air before it. Combined with several other similar subwoofers, the beat made it next to impossible to keep anything on the table. Unfortunately for the DJ, the music just wasn't her style. Some lame pop music, horrid love songs, and enough colt band music to last a lifetime. It was always the same with these young mares parties. Her electric blue mane shifting slightly with the barely satisfying bass, the DJ watched her clients out of pure boredom. On occasion, she had wished she could just be one of those in the crowd enjoying the music. Now, just watching them dance around like idiots to some shallow mare singing about her break-up, Vinyl couldn't be happier that she was in the position she was in.
Well, maybe if she could play REAL music and not this garbage. In spite of herself, she had to admit the fillies in front of her certainly looked happy listening to some cheesy lyrics with no substance. Oh, how she wished she could just kick it into high gear, putting her equipment to good use. She knew that would never fly, and she would be denied a payment she dearly needed. As easy as it was to find gigs, they rarely paid well at all, and when they did, it was something of this sort. Rich submissive parents, whiny school-filly, and an unfortunately poor DJ. She was the DJ, in case you hadn't guessed. Vinyl laughed as the crowd of young mares began to jump up and down to some lame song. She had to admit, if she wanted to do anything but listen to music, now would be a great time to do it. Doesn't take much effort to press play on a playlist and walk away.
Sadly, Vinyl just wanted to blast her style of music on the very speakers that trembled the desk under her computer. She had considered finding a book to read, but nothing ever appealed to her. Mostly, the idea of books themselves didn't appeal to her. So there she sat, sipping coffee and impatiently awaiting the end of the night and her glorious payment. Once or twice, a filly would come to her requesting a song, to which Vinyl answered with a grunt and a button push. I'm gonna die here. She decided. This music will be the death of me. These foals need to learn what real music is before they get any further in life and corrupt more poor idiots.
At one point, Vinyl snuck a swig of liquor from her flask. The liquid burned on the way down, and she loved every second of it. There were a few thing Vinyl hated in this world, and being sober was in the Top Five. As the alcohol began to absorb into her bloodstream, the music began marginally more tolerable. On the other hoof, Vinyl also became a little less thoughtful about the crowd and more about herself. After a couple more hidden drinks, she had decided she couldn't deal with it any more. Buck this. This music blows, and if they don't like my style, they can kiss my flank. Vinyl said to herself as she stopped the cursed track. All at once the mob of mares turned to her in anger and confusion. Grabbing the headset, Vinyl rose from her seat.
The lights all around her glinted off her purple shades as she smiled a devious and decidedly tipsy grin. "You fillies wouldn't know good music if it hit you in the face. Fortunately, I CAN make it hit you in the face," Vinyl said to the quickly angering crowd. Throwing all the switches, cranking all the dials, and adjusting all the speakers, Vinyl hit play on her computer. Within seconds, a loud and slightly melodic tune began playing. A select few registered the intro to the Deadhaur5 song and smiled slightly or dove for cover. The other members of the crowd just stood there confusedly, waiting for the bad part. From what they knew of it so far, the song was just sort of different. Vinyl smiled and twisted some knobs.
The song sped up, zooming to about a minute and a half into the song. She knew the exact moment to release the button, allowing the song to slow to normal speed during a lull. The bass was just a low rumble at that point. Anypony that knew anything about Vinyl's style of music would have known to run or hide, but of course nopony in the audience knew her that well. As the rumble of the bass began to ascend, the ground shook lightly. Everypony's eyes grew larger as the rumble grew as well. Just before the beats resumed, Vinyl decided to throw in a monkey wrench. She deftly blended the end of the lull with the silence of her own song. The bass had stopped, and the crowd stood confused once more.
Vinyl grinned widely and shouted into the microphone, "NOW ALL YOU BUCKERS DANCE!" Her language threw some, while others began to fear. Of course, neither had very much time to be angry or afraid, as Vinyl had timed her shout just right. Less than a second later, the Drop hit. The bass rocked the very foundation of the building they were in, causing dust to fall from the ceiling. Even Vinyl herself was knocked back slightly by the force of the Drop, but the smile never fell from her face. Her mane shook wildly as the air trembled around her. Standing on her hind legs and gripping the desk with her front hooves, she tossed her mane back and forth with vigor.
Through her purple sunglasses, she noticed a few of the young mares were doing the same while others covered their ears. Unfortunately, thanks to the deafening music, Vinyl never noticed the owner of the building walking up behind her. When he tapped her on the shoulder with a hoof, she rocketed skyward. When she managed to let go of the rafters, the stallion turned the music off. He looked pretty angry, so Vinyl decided it best to keep her mouth shut. Based on her blood-alcohol level, she knew an intelligent response would be beyond her at this point.
"Scratch, what in hell do you think you're doing! You know I told you that you can't play your music in here! I got so many noise complaints last time, I was swamped for weeks with notices! Are you even listening to me?" The stallion asked rather belligerently. Vinyl swallowed roughly, attempting to sound as sober as possible.
"Sure am, boss. ''m just havin' a little fun, and I think the crowd liked it," she answered, her 'S's' betraying her. The brown stallion leaned in close and took a deep breath. He quickly recoiled, a furious look in his eye.
"Damn it, Vinyl! You're drunk! You damn DJ's think you can do whatever the buck you want, whenever you want! Get outta here! I'll have your stuff ready in the morning, just get out of my sight before I do something stupider than lettin' you play here," the stallion ordered with a wave of his hoof. She didn't exactly remember how it went down after that, but when she found herself tossed out on the street, she did know a few things. First off, her hoof hurt. Second, Book was gonna wake up with a black eye. And lastly, she was unpaid, with only her computer and her flask in a backpack next to her.
Damn it, Vinyl! You bucked up big this time! No speakers, no subs, no bits, and rent to pay! Vinyl kicked the ground in front of her in frustration. Grabbing the backpack, she began to head home. She hadn't made it more than five steps before running into somepony. She looked up from the sidewalk to find another mare in a bathrobe in front of her. Her mane was slightly disheveled, though it still looked more managed than Vinyl's had been in years. One eyebrow was raised, revealing more of a magical lavender iris than the other.
In a moderately condescending and refined voice, the mare asked, "Am I to assume you were the disc jockey in charge of this particular 'concert'?" Vinyl nodded slowly, unsure of who this grey mare before her was. The mare continued, "Well, I feel it necessary to inform you that your horrid 'music', if it can even be considered such, has disturbed my rest. Now, I do not wish to raise any formal charges against you, but I may deem it necessary if you do not comply."
"Alright, so whaddaya want?" Vinyl asked, staring daggers at the rude grey mare. Anypony could insult her taste in music, her looks, even her personality, but a stab at her own music was not acceptable. It took every sober fiber in her body to stop her from clocking the snobbish pony in the face.
"All I ask is a formal apology and one hour of your time tomorrow," the mare explained. Vinyl couldn't believe her ears. This mare expected her to apologize, even after her musical talent had been insulted! Vinyl spit on the sidewalk next to herself as she answered the pony.
"Miss, I mean no disrespect when I say this, but please, for the sake of everypony, go buck yourself," Vinyl said, pushing past the mare.
"Do not speak to me in such a manner! Now, apologize like a mature mare and I shall be on my way. Refuse and I shall find a way to make you suffer for this insult," the grey mare said. Vinyl just kept walking and, without turning around, responded.
"Name's Vinyl. Vinyl Scratch. Remember that, I'm sure it'll make the paperwork much easier to fill out."
The grey mare just glared angrily at her as Vinyl trotted away. She did indeed store that bit of information in the back of her mind as she set out on her quest to make Vinyl Scratch pay for disturbing her much-needed sleep.