//------------------------------// // Audio Stutter // Story: OC-Palooza // by scribe-feather //------------------------------// OC-Palooza Audio Stutter By Scribe Feather If gods truly existed, they must have thrown all their artistic power into instruments. From the tiniest of flutes to the most boastful of drum sets, musical instruments had a special magic to them that allowed them to orchestrate such thought provoking tunes. Music came in all forms, but all of them had the power to provoke emotions out of ponies and entice mood and atmosphere with it's mystifying abilities. Ponyville had its fair share of music stores. Small shops that sold a wide variety of horns, pipes, and drums to would-be musicians. Audio Stutter found himself journeying to a particular music store that sat on the edge of town. The unicorn had no real plans of buying anything and simply wanted to browse. An enthusiast of music himself, Stutter made it a regular thing to browse the various stores that scattered themselves around town. He never had an idea on what he was looking for, but he had yet to journey into a store that didn't have a point of interest to explore. The dozen stores he browsed that day all had something interesting to look at, whether it was a shiny trumpet or a well organized drum stick collection. The most recent store was out of the way and Stutter couldn't quite recall ever going there before. It was a quaint little shop, proudly decorating its flat glass windows with paper signs advertising music lessons and free guitar tuning. Inside, the store was quiet, wide open, and had a wide variety of instruments hung on racks and shelves for browsing. In the very back of the room were recording rooms; small, soundproof studios where ponies could test out their instruments. The store owner was an elderly, peach colored pony, likely one who had spent his life committed to the craft of selling instruments. He had an experienced look to him, looking like a pony one could ask any musical question to and he'd be able to answer with certainty. His round glasses were thickly lensed with squinting eyes behind them. A pale gold bow tie around his neck tied the look together. "Good afternoon," the store pony smiled as Audio Stutter walked into the building, "can I help you find anything?" "No thank you, just browsing," Stutter replied as he passed. The red unicorn took his time browsing the merchandise, pausing every now and then to take in the minute details of the various items that were for sale today. He eventually stumbled across the main wall of the store that showcased a variety of hanging violins, guitars, and polished brass instruments. Among the collection was a single red guitar that stood noticeably out among the rest. The guitar was made of a deep crimson wood with an almost black veneer lining it's edges. It was well cared for and practically brand new with not a nick or scratch on its overly polished surface. Audio Stutter was at awe. Even after spending the day browsing hundreds of guitars, this particular one caught the most interest. There was something special about this one, something that Stutter knew deep down that it was perfect in every way. As the red unicorn stared, the store pony appeared by his side. "Thinking of buying?" the peach colored pony asked. Stutter let out a long sigh, "I wish." "Aren't you even the least bit curious how much the instrument costs?" The unicorn let out another sigh, hesitant on the answer, "fine, how much?" "For you, two bits," "Wow! Really?" "I can see you're a pony of good taste," the store pony answered, "take good care of this guitar and it'll take good care of you." "Oh I will! Thank you!" Stutter gleefully exclaimed, happily shaking the pony's hoof with both of his, practically shaking the glasses off of his nose. "Thank you!" Stutter couldn't pay for the guitar quick enough. His hooves shook with excitement as a big smile never seemed to leave his face. Money was exchanged, the guitar was placed in its carrying case (an addition the store pony threw in for free as well), and Stutter was soon on his way with his purchase in tow. He made a mad dash to his house, where he zipped inside in a flash. He wasted no time decompressing or relaxing after the long afternoon, powered by the excitement of testing out his new guitar. He passed his living room and journeyed into a back room in his house. The room was soundproofed with foam wedges attached to the walls, ready to absorb any stray noise that might ruin a good recording. In the middle of the room of the room hung a microphone that was rigged up to some recording equipment in the connected room. He shut the door, brewed himself a nice cup of tea and positioned a wooden stool in just the right position in the middle of the room. Everything had to be just right for the jam session to be perfect. The cup of warm tea floated beside him as he hopped onto the stool. He took in a breath before turning his attention to the new guitar that hung off his neck with a red strap. He gave the strings a good strum, causing a string of notes to be played. Surprisingly enough, even without some tuning the guitar sounded perfect. The single strum set a tingle down Stutter's hooves, like tiny sparkles crackled down his hooves. He gave it another strum, feeling another tingle in response. He smiled, raring to play some more, but not before taking a quick sip of his of his apple juice. He wiggled a tiny bit on his cushioned stool before turning his attention to the guitar. He then gave the guitar another strum and before long he was able to piece together a little song. The notes were never sharp or harshly out of tune and the little song soon grew in size, becoming smoother with each attempt he tackled. He closed his eyes to take in the gentle melodies that seemed to effortlessly flow out of the instrument. A smile hung on his face from a job well done. The music playing had left him in quite the good mood. A few minutes went by before Stutter finally opened his eyes once again. His smile quickly disappeared into a look of concern when he noticed some sudden changes around his room. Without noticing it, all clues to what the room previous looked like faded out of existence as a new reality set in. The foam walls melted into smooth walls painted with a clean shade of off white. A toy chest materialized out of nowhere at the stallion's feet, teeming with a plethora of kid toys. Now he suddenly found himself in the middle of a child's playroom with his stool replaced by a cushioned potty chair. A pair of kiddy pull-ups hung around his ankles as he caught himself, in what he could only assume as, a potty break. Initially Stutter thought to hop right off his seat, quickly toss the guitar aside, kick off his pull-ups, and clear out of there before anything else happened. Only these thoughts lasted for only a second as more dominate ideas filled his head. Yes he could panic and dash out of the room. He could throw out the guitar right away and find a way to fix all of this, but as much as he thought to do it, he didn't actually want to do it. Startled panic was quickly replaced with content curiosity as he scanned the room around him. The changes were strange and unexpected, but did they really interfere with his music playing? He quickly reasoned that they didn't and in fact the new room seemed to inspire more music playing from the pony. He'd be a fool to squander such inspiring material. He turned his attention back to his guitar that had its own changes during the room's regression. It was now replaced with a plastic toy version of the instrument. The guitar was bright red, bulky, and its strings were now raised plastic grooves. Yet despite the strings not being strings anymore, they still responded to his touch, vibrating out notes like real guitar strings. Once again, he made himself comfortable in his potty chair, took a thirsty gulp of his apple juice from his sippy cup and continued to play some more music. This time a new song came out of the toy guitar, a tad bit clunky and unrefined. His hooves stumbled a tiny bit as he played, occasionally plucking the same note twice. But he didn't care, he was just happy to be playing. Soon he was just content with playing some music, even when it devolved into formless songs that had no melodies or structure. Every note that came from the guitar was smooth, but the songs overall lacked any sort of resemblance to what most would call 'music'. Once again, Stutter found himself falling victim to his own music, closing his eyes to take it all in. The room around him shifted again, fading into yet another version of it that seemed even more childish then the last. The walls now acquired a powder blue color to it with a simplistic scene of rolling hills and fluffy clouds illustrated along its lower edge. Out of nowhere spawned padded, rubber mats that resembled colorful puzzle pieces and covered the floor in a rainbow of colors. Big foal toys laid scattered across the floor, evidence of some recent playtime. Now he found himself in a fluffy nursery with the potty chair replaced with a high chair. The plastic furnishing morphed around him, lifting him up into the air until his legs dangled freely. A bulk white tray grew out of nowhere, surrounding the stallion and locking him into place. His plastic guitar was now even smoother and bulkier and it's strings were now a series of rainbow colored buttons. It appeared that in the room's regression, Stutter traded his childish pair of pull-ups for a full fledged diaper and now wore the crinkling garment around his waist. That amount of changing was enough for Stutter to stop playing. He pulled himself away from the childish toy, tossing it across the plastic tray and away from his hooves. The guitar laid there lifeless on the white plastic tray, taunting the stallion to strum it another time. He knew he shouldn't, but the guitar sounded so beautiful, practically begging him to play another song. He dared only one button press, tapping the orange key only once before suddenly feeling a twisting pressure in his gut. He winced and quickly turned his attention to escaping. He tried to reach for the tray's release latches, but the metal lever was much too far for his hooves to reach. He squirmed about in his seat, desperately trying to find a different angle to reach from that would somehow get him closer to the latches. As he squirmed about, unbeknownst to him, his guitar slid closer to the edge of the plastic tray. The toy hung closer to the edge with each wiggle. Suddenly his guitar toy dropped to the ground, bouncing a tiny bit on the rubber mat with a plastic jiggle. The toy then rolled a bit, bumped into a plastic train toy, and landed on its front face at just the right angle that one of its buttons remained pressed down by a toy. The toy let out a single, electronically compressed tone as Stutter grew worried. He squirmed some more, this time desperately trying to reach out for the instrument that appeared miles away from his seat. He whimpered quietly, huffing about as he reached pathetically for the toy. When that didn't work, he turned back to the highchair's metal latch which was nowhere closer to his over extended hooves as they were two minutes ago. Still he continued but the reality of it all started to set in. He was trapped in his highchair and his stomach was beginning to gurgle.