I was left alone in the room, just me and the fragments of Plum’s life. I looked around me to the bed, the closet, the nearby window. The cover this room provided was pathetic. I’d be forced to face this out in the open.
I heard the chattering from downstairs as Plum and her “guests” came nearer, and already I was marshaling my defenses. The reasons why my hair must remain unbraided, my hooves unpolished, why I didn’t need anyone to brush my tail for me, and why, under no circumstances, would I discuss which colts were or were not cute.
That might not be enough. Fillies, I knew, weren't always reasonable. I had to make contingency plans. I fixed a map of every piece of furniture in the room into my head and considered my options. The closet would buy me some time, but offered no chance of escape. The window was a possibility, though the drop to the street outside could end up breaking my legs. My best hope was to use Plum’s desk as a springboard onto her dresser. A leap from there would get me past anypony blocking the door, with a clear shot to the stairs down to the front door.
If that weren’t an option, I could always make an excuse about needing the bathroom. I’d seen the layout on a previous visit. A good, thick door with a lock would keep them away from me while I got the window open. From there, it was only twenty feet down into a soft flower bed, which would hopefully break my fall without breaking me. Getting over the fence in the back yard would be tricky, but Plum’s mom had flowers growing on a trellis which I could use to climb onto the roof of the gardening shed in order to make my escape into the back alley.
My planning came to a halt just then as Plum approached the bedroom with four little fillies in tow. It occurred to me, too late, that I could have made my way downstairs and out the back door while she was meeting her friends. I hoped I wouldn’t regret that lost chance.
Plum came into the room and took a few minutes to introduce us all. I made careful note of each of the colorful little fillies as they were introduced.
“This is Windy,” Plum said, indicating a turquoise pegasus with a teal mane in a simple, straight cut.
“And this is Lilac and her little sister Lemon Squeeze,” she said next. Lilac was a light purple unicorn with a darker purple mane in a simple style, while Lemon Squeeze was yellow with a darker yellow mane. I could see the family resemblance.
“And this is Peachy Keen,” Plum said, indicating a light orange earth pony with a ragged reddish-orange mane. “Everypony, this is Cinnamon Swirl.”
“Hey,” I said, looking at the fillies critically. As far as I could tell, they were all at least a year or two younger than Plum, except for the yellow filly who may have been in kindergarten. That meant that I was slightly bigger than everypony in the room except Plum herself. That would be to my advantage.
The unicorns weren’t a big concern. The older one was thin and looked bookish, probably not used to physical confrontation. The younger was smaller than me by far and posed a negligible threat. Their magic probably hadn’t even started coming in, yet. Even if it had, it wasn’t likely to be strong enough to get past my defenses.
The earth pony looked strong enough, but she also looked clumsy and distracted. I was faster than her, I was sure. I'd be able to fake her out and get past her pretty easily. The pegasus was probably the biggest threat. She looked fast, and she was staring at me pretty intently, as if measuring me up. I knew she would be the hardest one to get past if I had to make a break for it.
“Hey, so this is the one who used to be a stallion?” the pegasus wasted no time in asking. I stared at Plum, who had the decency to look mildly embarrassed.
“So, yeah, I told them about you,” the purple filly confessed. I snorted. She could have checked with me before she spread my story around, though it wasn’t like I’d tried to keep it much of a secret myself.
“Well, at least they know what they’re in for,” I said. “Just so you know, I’m not interested in boy talk, painting my hooves, brushing manes, or anything girly like that.”
“Ick,” the younger unicorn said, scrunching up her face and sticking out her tongue. I noticed that she was missing a front tooth. “I dun' wanna do that, either. I thought we were playin’ the game?”
“Yeah, sheesh Cinnamon,” Plum said, shaking her head. “Don’t worry about it. We’re just going to tell stories and talk and play games and stuff. Oh, and eat. Lots and lots of eating really bad food.”
The other fillies cheered at that while I stood there, confused. Maybe the few mares I’d dated in my adult life had left me with a skewed vision of what a filly’s slumber party would be. Still, I was keeping my guard up. No way was I taking any chances.
"Wait a minute," I said warily. "What game?
~~*~~
I’d gotten separated from the others. Not that I’d cared, at first. I’d gone off on my own deliberately, after all. But now I was in serious trouble and doing my best to stay alive. I galloped down the hallway, the smoke from the torches in the wall sconces burning my eyes and lungs at the same time. I rounded a corner and went through a wooden door, which I slammed behind me, latching it shut. The thing pursuing me was close. I could hear the howling shriek as it came closer, ever closer.
My blood ran cold as I looked around the room. I didn’t see any escape. I was trapped.
I was going to die.
Something massive hit the door, bowing it inward. The latch held, barely, but the planks of the door itself cracked, and the lower half of one plank fell away, revealing something clawed and massive on the other side, something hungry for blood. My blood.
I took out my knife, getting ready to fight. It was a lost cause, and I knew it. There was no way I was going to win, but I would at least go down fighting. I took one last, desperate glance around the room and, as I did, I noticed that some debris on one wall were covering what looked like a wooden frame.
My heart leapt into my throat as hope renewed itself. I ran to the far wall and cleared the debris away, revealing a half-sized door. Behind me, my pursuer slammed into the door again and the latch exploded away from the door frame, zipping past my head and taking out a chunk of stone as it ricocheted off of the wall.
The creature behind me bellowed in confused fury as it tumbled into the room, reeking of rotten meat and animal musk. As it recovered its balance, I yanked the half-door open to reveal a small corridor, just barely big enough for me to fit into. I scrambled inside quickly, knowing full well that the massive creature wouldn’t be able to follow me through the smaller entrance.
In my desperation to escape, I didn’t notice the poisonous snake until it was too late. It flashed towards my leg, fangs glistening...
“Roll a save versus poison, Cinnamon!” Lilac said from behind her cardboard screen.
I sighed, picked up the die in my mouth and dropped it to the table top. It came up as a five. The fillies around the table flinched and groaned, with the exception of Windy, who laughed at my misfortune.
“That’ll teach you to run off without us!” she said, elbowing me in the ribs.
“Hey, I’m supposed to be a rogue. Rogues do roguish things.”
“Like get all the treasure before the rest of the party?” Peachy asked with a grin.
“Right.” I shrugged. “Didn’t work out too well for me this time, though. So, what, am I dead now?”
“Um...” Lilac frowned in concentration at something on the cardboard screen in front of her. “No, not yet. But you’re dying. The good news is that you’re far enough into that small hallway that the vile bear can’t reach you. If the others get there in time, they could save you. Maybe.”
“We run to Cinnamon’s rescue!” Plum shouted, pumping a hoof in the air.
“My name’s not Cinnamon,” I reminded her.
“We run to Swift Leaf’s rescue!” Plum shouted again, with another hoof-pump.
“You can’t,” Lilac said patiently. “You don’t know where he ran off. All you can do is follow the roaring of the vile bear.”
“We follow the roaring of the vile bear!” Plum shouted one last time.
“Everything all right in here?” an older voice asked. The mare who’d walked into the dining room gave me a good idea what Plum would look like in another fifteen years or so. Basically the same, but bigger.
“Yeah, mom,” Plum said with a grin. “Cinnamon is just dying from a poison snakebite.”
Plum’s mom shuddered and frowned. “I don’t like how violent this game sounds.”
“Aw, mom, it’s only pretend violence!”
Mulberry only shook her head at her daughter and smiled wearily. She was a nice enough mare, though how she managed to put up with Plum’s constant antics with such a fond smile was a mystery to me.
I’d met the mare once or twice coming over with Plum after school. Around her daughter, she was standard mom material, not putting up with much in the way of nonsense. The one time I ran into her in public, though, I’d seen something else entirely. A mare unsure of herself, nervous around strangers, mumbling and stuttering when talking to other adults while she kept her eyes on her hooves.
Made me wonder where Plum’s talkative streak came from. Maybe her dad, though I’d only ever seen him once or twice. Plum wasn’t kidding about him being sick. It turned out that he was the reason Mulberry had come into the room.
“Just make sure you keep it down, okay? Don’t wake Daddy.”
Plum promised, and the fillies started playing again, though more quietly this time. I munched idly on popcorn as I lay there, dying of the poison in my veins. The battle against the vile bear was epic and resulted in injuries but no fatalities.
Swift Leaf lived, but wasn’t in any shape to exert himself any time soon.
~~*~~
After the game, we retired back to Plum’s room. She hadn’t been kidding about bad food. A big salty bowl of buttery popcorn greased up their hooves, which were also smeared with chocolate and marshmallow from the s’mores that Mulberry had made up for us while we were risking our lives in the dungeon of the Mad Wizard of Doom Hollow. That didn’t even count the wide variety of candies, cookies, cupcakes, and so on.
None of the fillies much appreciated my warning about healthy eating habits and the dangers of foalhood obesity.
“It’s a slumber party, Cinnamon!” Plum said, scolding me. “Sheesh, lighten up!”
“All right,” I said with a shrug. “Don’t cry to me if you all get stomach aches tonight.”
In addition to juice to drink, there was soda, strawberry and chocolate milk, and a jug of iced tea to drink which was untouched by anypony but me. The girls were giggly as they tumbled around the bedroom, excitedly replaying the adventure we’d just been through.
I tolerated it as best I could. I didn’t see much point in talking about things that had just happened. I was just about to break out my book when Plum surprised the hell out of me.
“So, now for the real reason we’re all here: How to get the cure for Cinnamon, so he can go back to being a big, ugly stallion!”
"Hurray!" the rest of the fillies said.
“What?” I asked, surprised.
Plum grinned and nodded. “I thought if we all got together, maybe we could think of something.”
Besides “surprised”, I didn’t know how I felt about that. “Thanks,” I mumbled at her, my lips feeling numb.
She shrugged and smiled.
The next half hour was a frustrating exercise in understanding why a bunch of blank-flank fillies aren’t the best at planning complex stratagems. After explaining how I needed to get the bubble bath recipe from the Ponyville Spa, the ideas that came up went from impractical to insane faster than I could blink.
“No, we’re not sticking him in a box and mailing him to Ponyville, Lemon, sheesh!” Plum said, flailing her hooves in frustration.
“I said we'd give him air holes! He’d be fine,” the tiny filly said with a scowl. It was the third time she’d tried to advance her brilliant plan. I was desperate enough that I actually considered it the first time she'd brought it up.
“I still think a disguise is the best way to go,” Peachy said, earning a glare from Lemon for the interruption.
“Maybe we could convince a teacher that a trip to Ponyville would be a good idea for a school outing?” Windy asked. As ideas went, that was the winner so far for the evening. There was a problem, though.
"No way my mom would sign a permission slip for something like that," I said. The pegasus groaned and slumped in frustration.
“Wait, wait, I think we’re missing the obvious,” Lilac said. “Why can’t we just send some bits to Ponyville’s spa and ask them to ship the cure to us?”
“Ohmygosh!” Plum blurted. “That’s the best idea ever!”
I let out a humorless bark of laughter. “Tried that,” I said.
“What happened?” Lilac asked.
“I was away at school when the package arrived. My mom’s the one who found it. She trashed it, of course. She’s worked it out with the mail service that all future deliveries have to come directly to her. So, no way can I just get the cure delivered.”
The fillies all looked at each other.
“Well, gee,” Plum said, drawing out her words with exaggerated slowness. “If only you had, oh, I don’t know, a friend or something, you could have the cure delivered to her house instead.”
I stopped gaping at Plum when she started giggling at the look on my face. It could work. No, it would work. I knew it would work! For the first time in weeks, I had the cure at my hoof-tips! I could have kissed Plum, but then I would have had to arrest myself for Inappropriate Conduct With A Minor.
“Wait!” Lilac said. “I have a better idea! Didn’t you say that the spa got the recipe from a zebra?”
“Yeah?” I said.
“So, this zebra knows all kinds of Zebrican cures and potions and stuff, right?”
“I guess,” I said.
“And Plum’s dad got sick from a Zebrican spider, right?” Lilac said, eyes sparkling. Plum’s sharp intake of breath happened a split second after what the unicorn filly had said clicked in my head. She went on to spell out what Plum and I had just figured out. “So, maybe we can write to her, get the recipe and the cure for Plum’s dad, and have them both shipped here?”
Damn, that kid’s smart. Less than a quarter my age, and she just made me feel like a grade-A moron. Plum couldn’t restrain herself, leaping at her friend and hugging the living daylights out of her. I offered up a wry smile at the site. It was good to see the filly’s spirits so high, but there was a problem.
“Plum, don’t get your hopes up,” I said, hating myself for saying it even though I knew it was necessary. “There’s no guarantee that this zebra can cure your dad.”
Few things in this world are more devastating than false hope. Judging by the stricken look on Plum's face, I didn’t think she appreciated the sentiment, but I really was just trying to protect her. I opened my muzzle to explain that, which is when the pillow took me on the side of the head.
My ears flattened down against my skull as I slowly turned my head, my narrowing eyes obscured by the part of my mane that had been smacked over my face, to look at the filly who’d just clobbered me. Windy took a step back and hastily spit out the pillow she’d been holding in her teeth.
“Well, you don’t have to be mean about it,” she said defensively.
“I wasn’t,” I growled. I took a deep breath and let it out. “I wasn’t being mean,” I repeated in a more normal voice. “I just don’t want her to be hurt if this zebra can’t help her.”
An awkward silence rose up and strangled any conversation for a few seconds. It was broken when Lemon announced “I need t’ use the bafroom!” and trotted off. Her sister rolled her eyes, but Peachy giggled, and Plum eventually joined in.
The tension faded. I gave Plum an apologetic grimace. “Sorry,” I said. She smiled and patted me on the shoulder. The fillies talked over the plan a little more and we realized that we didn’t have any addresses for anyone. Not only that, but I had no idea what that zebra’s name was. I only knew her by reputation as “that spooky zebra who lives in the Everfree”.
“Maybe the post office can help?” Lilac suggested.
“Actually, don’t worry about it,” I replied. “I’ll send a letter to Sugarcube Corner in Ponyville. There’s a pony there that owes me big time, and I think she’s friends with the zebra. If nothing else, she can send a letter back with the right name and address.”
That decided, the conversation started drifting in random directions. I snorted when the subject of music came up.
“Music hasn’t been the same since Days and Nights broke up,” I told them with authority.
“Ew, Days and Nights?” Windy crinkled her nose. “That’s, like, old pony music.”
“Hey, I listened to that in high school!” I said, miffed.
“Like I said,” the pegasus said, and I was surrounded by giggling.
“I like Rainy Nights a lot better since she started her solo career,” Plum said, nodding seriously. “She’s got some good stuff.”
“It’s all mass-produced pop, though,” I protested. “Sounds exactly like every other mare out there. Dry Days was the real musician of the group. He wrote all the good stuff.”
“Whatever. Sapphire Shores is better than anypony else, anyway,” Plum said staunchly.
I was about to give exactly my impression about Ms. Shores’ so-called “music” when I realized that I was about to get into a music debate with a bunch of blank-flank fillies. I shrugged instead.
“Whatever,” I said.
The girls kept talking. I got bored. And then annoyed. Eventually, I felt like pounding my head through a wall just to block out the chatter, but I took my book out instead.
“You’re going to read during a slumber party?” Plum asked, eyes narrowing dangerously.
“Well, it’s not like I know anything about what you’re talking about,” I told her. The current topic of conversation was about the Canterlot Fashion Industry. Apparently, some new unicorn was making big waves. Plum snorted and then waved a hoof dismissively at me, which I decided was her way of telling me to do my own thing the rest of the night.
I lay on my back on Plum’s bed and stuck my nose in the book. Eventually I was able to tune out the bubbling and shrill conversation coming from the middle of the room, reducing it to a merely annoying background noise. As the evening wore on, my eyes started getting heavier. I blinked, realizing I’d read the same paragraph three times without realizing it. I stretched, yawned, and went back to reading.
I don’t know when I fell asleep. All I know is that it was a critical error to lower my defenses when surrounded by a room full of fillies. I felt a tug on my back left hoof and woke with a start. Giggling shapes sped away from me, hiding themselves almost before I was aware of them.
I blinked and looked around woozily. The sun must have gone down. Plum's window was a flat black mirror glinting in the light of the one lamp that was still on, the rest of the room a gloom of dim shadows. My book was lying open next to my face, stained by a thread of drool. I sat up and felt something tug at my mane. I reached up with my hoof to brush away whatever it was and stopped, not comprehending what I was seeing at first.
My hoof was painted a bright, reflective red. A shade of red most mares would sniff at disdainfully if they saw it on another mare's hooves. My forelimb trembled as I stared. Slowly, I reached out my other forelimb. That hoof had been painted a dark purple.
I looked down, dreading what I would see. I was sitting up, my back legs stretched out on the bed before me. My back right hoof was painted a sky blue, and the left was halfway done being painted a pink that was even more obnoxious than my own coat.
My tail, jutting out from between my splayed hind legs, had been inexpertly braided and tied with lopsided ribbons in a chaotic rainbow of colors. With trembling hooves I reached back behind my head and discovered that the half of my mane I hadn’t been sleeping on had been treated similarly.
I looked around wildly. I didn’t see any fillies, but I knew they were there. I could hear the giggling.
“Plum Pudding,” I grated into the emptiness, “When I get my hooves on you, you’re gonna pay!"
There was silence before the giggling started again.
"We outnumber you," Plum said from the shadows. "And we have makeup."
The shadows moved, and five fillies advance towards me. Each one held an object of torture. For Lemon, it was the tube of lipstick she held in her teeth. Windy had a hair curler. I don't know what it was that Lilac was levitating before her, but I got the impression that it smelled like powdered flowers. Peachy had an eyelash curler between her lips. As for Plum...
I couldn't see her. I looked around wildly, panicked. Then I knew. She was behind me. Heart hammering in my chest, I turned my head slowly. Plum popped up like she was on a spring, a manic grin on her face.
"It's time for blush!" she shrieked, wielding a powder puff.
I tried to shout, but my breath wouldn't come out. The puff descended towards me...
I woke with a startled snort. The room was dark, lit only by the moonlight through the window. I stared around wildly while my limbs jittered with adrenaline. Plum was asleep on her bed next to me, crunched up against the wall to make room for me while I hogged the middle of her bed. She was lying on her back and snoring slightly.
On the floor were the sleeping forms of four fillies, each in a sleeping bag. I noticed that Lemon's had Princess Celestia's cutie mark emblazoned on the front. Windy's had the Wonderbolt's logo.
"A dream..." I said to myself, my limbs trembling from the fading adrenaline surge. "Just a dream," I said again, wishing that I didn't sound like I was trying to convince myself.
I checked my hooves. As far as I could tell in the moonlight, they were the same color they were earlier today. My tail was not braided. I had no ribbons in my mane. And...
And my bladder was full. The iced tea I'd been drinking earlier was making its presence known. With a sigh, I slid gently off of the bed and moved as quietly as I could between the sleeping fillies, slipped out of the bedroom, and made my way to the bathroom down the hall.
I love the dndness Hoopy.
-Edit Holy shit, Cinnamon is Jason fucking Bourne.
headsup.boyslife.org/files/2013/01/jason-bourne.jpg
-edit edit
Should have used Merlos... tsk tsk
Haha, I do love this story.
2441439
Just because he can think up cool plans doesn't mean he can enact them. He would probably jump from the bed and slam into the dresser knocking himself out cold. All the while a group of fillies would stare uncomprehending at the crazy unconscious pony.
Ha, I didn't expect you to go the d&d route, but I suppose it'd make a certain level of sense.
Well played.
I think somebody saw me type
and then downvoted all of my stories...ouch fimfic goers.
And the plot gets moving along finally! I think? Anyway MOAR!
I love the DnD session you did. If only my sleepovers were that good.
Oh my god yes!
I have not stopped laughing since the last chapter!
My sleepovers usually consist of who gets to play me in first-person shooters. The person who beats me the most gets three dollars from the person who beat me the least.
It's because I'm awesome at them. Third person is a different story.
Out of curiosity, will there be a third "Slumber Club" spinoff after this?
The dream part kind of reminds me of when I woke up over my friend's house during a sleep over and I found out my two friends drew on my face. Love the new chapter btw.
That nightmare scene was a true F$@%ing nightmare, good job.
Have some epicness.
global3.memecdn.com/Epic-Football-Gif_o_100468.gif
2441988 It's called "being Jiggly Puffed", I think. No, I didn't get it, I did it. To another player's character in a Shadowrun campaign - oh, do I sound like a geek...
Wait, I like being a geek!
Dat nightmare.
Hmm, so, the Slumber Club is Trottingham's version of the CMC? Cinnamon doesn't know what kind of danger he/she's really in, then.
Those are the sort of nightmares that scar you for life, man.
Best slumber party ever. And no kidding about the idea to write to Ponyville, Cinnamon Swirl's mother's willingness to let her make friends ought to be the downfall of the entire plan.
Best kids ever.
DnD, intellect, not causing a poor old man to suffer.
I like them, and they're adorable.
2441439
"...is fucking jason bourne."
okay, right here, sentence structure is REALLY IMPORTANT.
2443125
Haaaa.
Haaaaaaaaaa.
Points to you sir!
I love u for ur reference guide.
"don't wake daddy". I like have an inklin ur making a reference here.
I'm a little worried how mom might react when he turns back to normal. She might be a little screwy.
This chapter was Manley as fuck!
As I'm literally in the process of writing and planning characters for my next campaign. Hoops, you are an amazing being.
In least there's hope for him now, then turn and give his mother a good talk to that she deserves. (hopefully)
Always carry healing herbs when in dungeons. Always.
Peachy Keen and Plum Pudding, are best ponies. excluding main character
Now that I see their color scheme, I see why Cinnamon was really invited.
They needed the last color for their Filly Rainbow!
2446345 Aye, especially as a Rogue. Me? I switch between enchanted bows an' daggers when fighting. Heck, in one RP I've played, I attached a dagger to each end of my bow, and used it like a quarterstaff. Now that was a fun adventure.
This story is like an acid trip. It's awesome.
And forward moves the plot!
Maybe.
Loved the sleepover. Loved Cinnamon Swirl's tactical thinking. Loved the nightmare.
I'll look forward to the next update!
When I realized what this was, I literally laughed out loud.
Seriously, everyone in the room was looking at me like "dafuq is he reading?"
And then there was DnD and all was well with the world.
I fully expected this chapter to start with a close approximation of the line "...so as they came at me with the eye shadow, I silently cursed my mother in ways the criminals I used to apprehend would have blushed at."
The nightmare, though, was a decent substitute.
THEY ARE ALL SO CUTE!!!!!
*dies*
2770299
Alas, poor Buckshot2825. One more victim to the cruel cuteness of ponies. WHEN WILL PEOPLE LEARN NOT TO LOOK DIRECTLY AT THE PONIES! *sobs* So young. So innocent.
That's it! It is too much! Goodby you cruel world. *looks at cute ponies* This is my last! *dies*
*sits up* P.S. For shame author: the lives of innocent bronies are on your hands. *dies again*
I'm going to fav "Why am I Pinkie Pie" after I finish this (completed reading it before I made this account). Oh god... can I just say this is genius, and... *looks at cute ponies* OH GOD!! THERE'RE SO ADORABLE!!!! *pets dem*
That nightmare was really scary!
D&D Dooble-dee
D&D Dooble-dou
Magic Elf Wizard i choose you!
https://www.khanacademy.org/cs/dungeons-and-dragons-character-genrater-elfs-wizard/1812873672
2454658
When your a level 8 wizard, this spell is all you need
cdn.meme.li/instances/47064521.jpg
Especially when playing oblivion themed module.
Plum has cool friends.
5047563
So cute! I love the slumber club guide.
It occurs to me that Plum's father is also, on effect, dying from a poison snake bite(yes, I know it's technically supposed to be a poison spider bite even though it's implied later to just be straight-up criminal poisoning). Perhaps Mulberry is touchy about that, rather than just the pretend violence.
Ooh, suck burn!
Real talk though, this is what I feel like whenever I talk music with other people. All this rap and crappy pop music about drugs sex and booze. What happened to the days where music actually meant something?
Sorry, rambling.
THIS TRIGGERS ME. I HATE THIS SO MUCH. I AM TWITCHING UP A STORM RIGHT NOW.
But this is pretty funny too, so...
8354024
That was back when ugly people were allowed to make some.
9131070
Which bit? The violence thing, or the bit about the mommy being "ah oh so violent game"?
Because if it's the latter, I recall this little incident with a TV personality (similar to what you'd call "supernanny", if you know that show) going on-air for a twenty-minute rant about how anime was basically "chinese porn cartoons". No, she literally used those words. On national fucking TV (6 PM slot or thereabouts, probably the social focus bit), no less, speaking to potentially millions of parents*.
From what I remember, the fallout ranged from "meh" to "scorched fucking earth". Personally knew a girl who got grounded for a few months straight, had her entire manga collection summarily tossed out, the works.
* followed by an episode of Saint Seiya on Channel 4.
8354024
As a Baby Boomer, all I can say is
"Yes, music used to have such sensible lyrics as
'Lop bop a loop bop a loop bam boom. Rooti tooti.' ."