Vinyl bellowed into the mic.
“And now, showtime!”
Sure, it was loud, but it wasn’t like anypony would be going home that night without a little hearing damage. Everyone, that was, except one stallion way in the back booth with earplugs. Loser. I’ll just have to blow his mind anyways. Seriously, who shows up to a dance club with earplugs?
Grinning ear to ear, Vinyl reached down and unzipped the outside pocket on her bag, and gasped. There, where the slightly worn cover of ‘Bass-Biased’ was supposed to be looking at her was the cold gray visage of duct tape. She stared for a moment, then yelled for an assistant.
“You, you there in the front! Yeah! You with the spiky green mane-do! I need to borrow your knife!”
The buck looked up at her, somewhat confused, but levitated a switchblade up for Vinyl to grasp at. Gotta love working in a crappy neighborhood. Flipping the blade open, Vinyl held it delicately above the entombed record, and gently cut along the length. The seal opened up, yielding a black disc. Vinyl held it up to read the title, but somepony had removed the label from it. Since wussing out just wasn’t an option, Vinyl threw it on the deck and braced for the worst.
At first, everything was quiet. Then, suddenly, a saxaphone blared. Ponies looked around in confusion, turning first toward the speakers, then toward their DJ who was trying to keep a smile plastered on her face. Trombones and a honky-tonk piano joined in, and soon a noon-jazz piece was floating around the room. Half instinctively, but half forced, Vinyl started to bob her head with the ‘beat’ of the music, if it could be called that. Well, there goes tonight.
Just as she was about to give up on the act, and frantically start digging in hopes that her regular records were still in her bag, a small group of ponies trotted out onto the floor, and took up a more traditional dance than was their normal fare. Vinyl stared in wonder, and then hurriedly started cutting open the rest of the records. They were also short their labels, but that wasn’t going to be an issue anymore. She watched as the dance went on for two more songs, all the while as more couples held onto each other and led one another around the floor. Then, it was time to take the stupid up another notch.
“Alright everypony, I know that was a surprise, but we’re far from done! Tonight is random-ass night, and I have absolutely no idea what we’re doing next!” Her announcement was met with a few curious glances, but most everypony else started cheering. “Who wants to find out?” Louder cheering. It's ok, I guess. I can work with this. Vinyl flipped a new record on, and held her breath.
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At long last the night was winding down, and it had been both the scariest and most thrilling night Vinyl had experienced in a long time. Convincing everypony that the classical disc was ‘slow-dance music’ had been a hard sell, but everything else had gone more or less according to plan. Everypony, even those shy folks who never got up to do anything had seen some dance time. Or at least that was the gist of what the far too long-winded bar owner had been telling Vinyl for the last five minutes. He was still going on, but had finally gotten to pertinent information.
“Well, miss. I think I learned my lesson last night, and I’m gonna have to limit you to two free drinks tonight. But I’d like to offer you some kind of regular schedule here. This could work out well for both of us. Seems like there are ponies expecting all kinds of things from you here. Still, I don’t think you’ll be short of drinks if you want them. Looks like your new fans tipped nicely, and I’ve got your pay here.”
The tip jar (labeled ‘Tip yo’ DJ, she’s sexy!’) was almost a third of the way full with small gold and silver coins. Vinyl felt her jaw suddenly drop. That was more bits than she made in a week working as a waitress between show nights. It was almost enough to make up for asking Octavia to pay the entire rent last month. Coupled with the small drawstring bag that the owner had pressed into her hooves, Vinyl suspected she might also make the current month’s payment on time.
The offer of more free drinks was tempting, but the gears turning in Vinyl’s mind were pointing toward something else. It had have been Octavia who had messed up her set, and getting back at her would be difficult, and far less ironic without tape. All the stores would be closed by this hour, and she wouldn’t be able to buy more. That left just one more avenue of attack.
“I’d enjoy working here on a regular basis. Though, I was hoping you might be able to do me a favor instead of feeding me more beer.”
The stallion shrugged, and then nodded. “Sure, what can I do for you?”
“Do you have a roll of duct tape I could borrow?”
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The most amazing part about getting home sober was not tripping up the three flights of stairs to the apartment. Vinyl was enjoying the feeling of no-face-smashing, but it still wasn’t as good as being totally blitzed. It was also kind of sad that she had forgotten to pick up a stallion before leaving the bar, but that would just make it easier to get up and mess with Octavia in the morning. Speaking of that mare, she was still somehow awake when Vinyl pushed the door open. Sitting next to Octavia on the sofa was a baby-blue earth buck with a chocolate mane. He was dressed in a button-up shirt and a tie, and Octavia was wearing a fine evening-gown. Their clothes didn’t have Vinyl’s attention so much as the fact that they were locked in a kiss.
“Hey! Got one for me too?” hollered Vinyl, loud enough to make them both jump. “Judging by those faces you’re making, I’ll take that as a no.”
Leaving her roommate to figure out the aftermath, Vinyl ascended the stairs, making sure to bring her gear bag with her. That lovely little roll of gray adhesive-backed plastic was wedged down inside a mess off patch cables, and would need to be kept safe until the morning.
I'm just gonna say, brilliant use of 'Shut up' with the pause in the coverart.
That coverart.
looks interesting to any normal person.
looks absolutely hysterical to anyone who knows and can read music.
Upvote just for that!
speaking of cover art I will explain it to all non musical people...
the fermada is the semi circle with the dot in it, it means hold the note until conductor, or drum major in my case, gives the signal to stop
the other symbol is a rest where you don't play anything.
now if you fermada a rest then you stay silent until order not to...that is why it means shut da hell up.
now I have wasted all of your time with this "USEFULL" information...at least USEFULL to me
5141555
It's all fitting. Not everyone has a musical background, so thanks for letting everyone know :)
And yes, this entire story came about from noisy roommates while I was trying to record guitar, and seeing the picture that would later become the cover.
5141567 I will admit though this is the first time I've seen one with a quarter rest...it's usually a whole rest but they still mean the same thing...now on to my two hours of me "studying"
5141581
If they had a fermata for TAB notation, I would have gone with that
5141590
You're welcome in this world, so long as you don't cause any permanent harm, or spend obscene wads of cash on duct tape.
5141591 and as always I know exactly what the symbol means but not the right name.
You question why this was featured? If you can't figure that out I'm not even gonna help you out there. =P
5141616
Dude, you know I understand computers, and numbers. Looks like I'm gonna have to keep on being confused.
Silence is Golden.
Duct Tape is Silver.
Earplugs don't work in the front row at a Metal Concert.
And a Pipe Wrench makes people stop playing annoying music at 2AM.
(No, I just turn off their power. And in AZ, that includes the AC. Quickly, they cease to want to play music, in lieu of sweating a lot).
I'm a femada...hold me
5141318 I don't know about you, but I can't say shut up in a quarter note rest.
Gotta love that cover art.
5141389
My sentiments exactly