//------------------------------//
// Pachyderms and Pole Problems 
// Story: The Sleep-Deprived Sisterhooves Social 
// by Wise Cracker 
//------------------------------//

Vinyl Scratch took a deep breath. Her blue dress glittered in the lights of Canterlot's Mane Street Opera House as she strode onto the stage. She bowed before the full hall, hardly making anyone out with the lights shining her way. Even if she was clothed more than usual, she felt naked without her sunglasses. To her left, she thought she saw the telltale blues of Wonderbolt uniforms, and to her right she caught the sparkles of the royal sisters' manes, but that was about it.

She had more to worry about than ponies tonight. Applause greeted her when her head rose back up.

The conductor of the orchestra below her repeated the same entrance ritual, bowing and taking the applause before getting into position.

Vinyl put on her headphones, a shiny white set made just for this occasion. A flick of the button and a touch of magic, and her panel sprung to life. Two record players were in plain view, the rest was mostly hidden.

The conductor tapped his baton.

Time to begin. The first notes would be hers. Everything rested on her shoulders.

It started with the waking call of the Eastern Plains cicada, slowly rising in volume. The orchestra stayed perfectly still. Next, Vinyl added a layer of growls, sampled from a very generous pet salespony at last year's Traders' Fair in exchange for a hayburger. Quite the bargain, considering it had gotten her the sounds she needed without any background noise to get in the way. The highs and lows of various canines and felines made for a good baseline to the rhythm, but all in all it was quiet, a mere warming-up to big event. Vinyl could feel her heart pounding.

Then the bells: the gamelan, favoured instrument of the Haybaleinese. Two high strikes to grab the audience's attention, a suppressed two-thrum response from the cicadas in the background, then two low strikes, more tweaks to the jungle noises, then a four-strike, a pause, and another four-strike.

The music and the recordings blended together beautifully, slowly. Percussion beats of jungle drums joined in, a metallic drum recording entered the fray, and the calls between orchestra and recordings became a fun game, almost, until Vinyl's machine let out a low hum, like a siren's call.

She smiled. No one was throwing rotten tomatoes at her yet. No one was walking out in anger.

This might just turn out alright.





The white unicorn stood out like a loose spike in the railroad among all the dignitaries and sharply dressed ladies. Her blue streaked mane hadn't been flattened out for the occasion, her tail was brushed, but certainly not neat, and she'd taken the liberty of ditching her dress after the performance, mostly for image, if not for lack of comfort.

Truth be told, she just didn't want to get any stains on Octavia's clothes. Her housemate was forgiving, but some risks are not meant to be taken. The Princesses were pleased, the few Wonderbolts in attendance had made a point to shake her hoof, the post-performance socialising was almost done. Only one crowd had yet to lay down their judgement.

"Splendid performance, Miss Vinyl," one of the dignitaries said, stomping towards Vinyl with the rest of his herd in tow.

Her heart skipped a beat. An elephant was complimenting her on her music. An elephant. That was like a wizard student getting compliments from Star Swirl the Bearded. Hailing from the far reaches of the Southern Continents, these fellows were notorious for their attention to detail in pretty much everything. The fact that they sported ridiculously large ears in proportion to their heads made their taste in music particularly sensitive.

Now, ponies were, by nature, a fearful lot when it came to the unknown, mostly because of bad experiences and instincts that evolution had yet to bury. Elephants such as these, though, were easy on the nerves, almost comical, with their wriggly trunks for noses and floppy sheets of skin for ears. Once one grew accustomed to their heavy gait and their massive presence, they were fun to be around.

"Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Where did you get your samples from, if I may ask?" The lead bull asked. "I've a wager with my companion here."

Vinyl gulped. "Err... well, the jungle noises, I got from a Trader's Fair. Some ponies deal in exotic pets, and some of those are kind of, umm... big. I was lucky enough to get a recording."

"Did you catch the species, per chance?"

"Yes, sir; I try to keep a label on all the stuff I use. There was a roogar from turkey country, a ligra from the Panda Isles, and an orthros. That's a two-headed dog: one head was pug-faced, the other was a shepherd, I think it was Mawlinian."

At that, the leader of the five elephants turned to a cow behind him, who nodded sagely. "But the jungle noises? Do you know the insect noises? Surely you didn't record those yourself?"

"Actually, I did, on a holiday. Those were cicadas."

The bull grumbled. "But what kind? The seven-year or the five-year one?"

"Both, now that you mention it. I caught them when both came out at the same time. I've been meaning to go back and get a recording of them separately, but... you know, only once every five or seven years... sorry I couldn't get a purer sound for that." Vinyl cringed. The bull noticed.

"Oh, but we weren't offended at all, my dear, it's mere curiosity. It was a fine choice to use as backing. I dare say few souls will have heard the sound of cicadas mingling. And I must commend you on such dedication to your craft, as well."

"Thank you, but I can't take the credit for that one. My friend, Octavia, she's got more smarts in that department, it was her idea."

"Octavia? Octavia Philharmonica?" The bull thought aloud, and again turned to his companions for a nod of confirmation. "Surely not the cello player from that lovely concert down in Manehattan eight months ago? Dark grey, flat mane, lovely eyes and a firm, strong-" He made a cupping gesture, eliciting a cough of disapproval from the cow behind him. "Err, ahem, stroke?"

And there was that infamous elephant memory. "Yes, that's her. We live together, and we've worked on some of the other more, err... 'experimental' projects in Equestrian music."

"That explains your range. I thought it was a peculiar rumour about you."

"What rumour?"

"Idle gossip and claptrap, I assure you, nothing to be concerned about. Just an ugly, scandalous rumour that, for all your skill in sampling and your obvious knowledge of rhythm and tone, that you are not classically trained and, would you believe the nerve of some tongues, that you can't even read notes."

Vinyl shrank before the herd of pachyderms. "Well... I'm learning."

This, the bull took with a shock. "You jest."

"I mostly play by ear, and it's kind of embarrassing to ask a serious teacher, with my, umm, my background and all. But obviously Octavia can, and she got me some books to start on. Usually I'm looking at sound graphs anyway; it looks more technical, but it ends up being the same thing in principle, so... but yes, I am learning. I can't read notes perfectly, but I'm getting there. Octavia helps me with the fundamental stuff, I help her out with the technical side of things and anytime someone wants more modern tunes."

A sage nod from the cow was her answer. "So it is true what they say: even the most different of ponies can live together."

"Yeah, we are pretty different. But we've got a lot in common, too. And speaking of which, I need to hop on the next carriage to Ponyville. Gentlebulls, miladies, it's been a pleasure."

"Oh, must you leave so soon? We were just about to go get some drinks, now that the afterparty's wearing down. Please, won't you join us?"

Vinyl had their backs to them, thankfully. She dearly hoped those big ears wouldn't catch the sound of her teeth gritting together.

A delegation of elephants, asking her to go drinking. She could join them. Octavia and Scootaloo might worry, sure, but they knew where she was and what she was doing. It wouldn't be a major crisis. And Vinyl hadn't promised anything.

Not only that, but these were elephants, and while ponies were not the most educated of species when it came to the world outside their lands, one thing every pony knew about elephants and their customs: elephants may have thick skins, but they never forget.

She'd just managed to score some points with these guys, brush up her tarnished reputation from her damnable lack of formal training. They liked her so far, as a curiosity. Elephants loved curiosities; they couldn't help sticking their big noses in them.

If she refused now, the next delegation would know, and remember. And the one after that, and the one after that. For as long as she lived, any visiting elephants would know: the white one with the blue hair is kind of rude.

"Of course I'll join you for a drink, hey, I know this awesome place just two blocks away from the palace. They've got this great cocktail with strawberries, rum, and peanut butter, you'll love it."





Vinyl Scratch awoke to agony. Something had drilled into her head, her right eye was blind and possibly bleeding, and she'd lost her left arm. Her breath was ragged, and the death rattle it produced only further confirmed what the rest of her body was telling her.

She was dying.

"You really must have that snoring checked, darling," a voice said, piercing the ringing in her ears.

Something wiped her nose and pulled the covers. Looking down, Vinyl realised she was not bleeding, or missing limbs, or dying. She was merely hung over, and had slept on her arm, leaving it numb.

"Ow, my head..."

Her housemate, ever the understanding one, gently held a warm cup of tea against the unicorn's forehead, right below the horn. That helped. That helped a lot.

"Octavia?" Vinyl dragged herself out of bed and shook her head. Big, grey Earth pony mare, beautiful dark mane and tail, vibrant pinkish eyes that could pierce a soul as easily as a needle could a soap bubble, firm haunches from standing up with her cello, that was still normal, at least.

"What happened?" Octavia asked.

"Mind if I ask that first?" Vinyl asked in kind, slurring.

"You came home last night, wobbling on your hooves, carrying my dress instead of wearing it. You did not throw up, but your eyes wouldn't focus. You kept laughing, too. I kept you as quiet as I could, so our other houseguest wouldn't notice." She nodded to the bedroom door.

Vinyl's brain took a moment to parse that information. "Scootaloo? I didn't wake her up, did I? Oh, no, if she saw me drunk-"

"She did not see, darling, rest assured. As far as she knows, you were very tired, and you are tired, still."

"Yeah. I don't think I'm good for anything today."

"Now would you mind answering my question? Why were you drinking? I thought you were playing for delegates?"

"I was."

"And you got drunk?"

Vinyl nodded. "Yup. They asked me to, and I couldn't refuse."

"Whyever not?"

"It was the elephants."

"Ah. Did you tell them about us?"

"Yup."

Octavia smirked. "Did they remember me from Manehattan?"

Vinyl chuckled. "Oh yeah. Put in good words for both of us."

"I suppose I can't begrudge you that, then. I'll be out today, in case you forgot, with Lyra, so you'll have the house to yourself, nice and quiet. I'll tell Scootaloo you can't make it."

"Can't make what?"

"The Sisterhooves Social."

Vinyl slapped herself, and instantly regretted it. "Ow! That was today?"

"Yes. You forgot?"

"Of course I forgot! I'm not an eleph-haaawhoa..." Vinyl's head spun, her eyes squinted and opened a few times as she tried to get her bearings. "Okay, I can do this. I'll take her to the Social, sign up, beat the snot out of the competition, no problem."

"But Vinyl..."

"No buts." Vinyl wobbled, then walked to her nightstand, and put her sunglasses on. Her signature glasses, the ones that would hide her bleary eyes. "I promised, and that's final. You know the rules in this house."

"Yes, I am aware you want your niece to grow up with a sense of integrity, but-"

"I said: no buts!" Vinyl stomped her hoof into the ground, gently, so as not to wake the kid. "Where is she now, anyway?"

"Getting us breakfast. You know how she gets when you promise to do something nice for her: she always wants to settle the score."

"Good. Then I can freshen up, eat breakfast, get my head back on the right way, and once I get some food in my stomach I'll be fine."

"Vinyl, please. You've barely slept, and you were performing for, what, a whole hour, in the Canterlot Opera, without a breather, without so much as a bottle of water? Even if you were sober, you would need to recover. You can't push yourself today. You know it's not healthy."

The unicorn grumbled. "I know all about health risks, Octy. Just because I'm not in the family business, doesn't mean I'm a moron."

"I didn't mean it like that, Vinyl."

She sighed. "I know. Sorry. I just... I said I'd do it, she had her heart set on it, I am not letting her down."

"Well, I can't exactly stop you. But on your head be it, Vinyl. You're going to have to be careful."

"Hey, careful's my middle mane! D'err, name. I mean name." Right at that moment, she stumbled and fell back on her rear end.

Octavia grinned. "I think I'm going to need to see some I.D. then, little missy."

Vinyl snickered. "Very funny."

"In all seriousness, Vinyl, are you sure this is a good idea? The Sisterhooves Social is a competition. Things have a habit of getting out of hoof there, especially in recent years. And you know Scootaloo wants the prize."

"It's fine. Scootaloo's the toughest little pony in town, and she's got me to back her up. Besides, this is Ponyville." Vinyl tapped her horn, grinning. "Who's gonna try and take on a Canterlot unicorn, huh?"





"Good morning, Twilight." Spike came waltzing in with a loaded tray, expecting to find Twilight in bed.

Of course he should've known better. He'd moved his cot downstairs again, as Twilight insisted he do every night she spent reading, so the light and the noise wouldn't disturb his slumber. He'd missed his goodnight kiss, but that wasn't unusual; he may not have had dragon wings or a dragon's size yet, but he certainly had the dragon napping down.

Another night of study in Goldenoaks Library, same as they had been in the Canterlot archives. He'd figured she would eventually close her last book, get to bed, and get some sleep.

She'd gotten the last one, at least.

"Twilight?"

"Huh?" The mare shot awake.

Spike, ever the attentive scholar in matters pertaining to overzealous unicorns, needed no time to make his diagnosis. Bleary eyes, drool on her cheeks, frazzled mane – without the residual sparks of magic abuse, thank goodness – and of course some drool on the book, it all pointed Doctor Dragon to the one conclusion. "You fell asleep in your books again, didn't you?"

Twilight squinted and groaned. "I think so, sorry." She sniffed the air. "Spike, is that-"

"Orange and strawberry muffins with hot cocoa. Your favorite."

"Spike, you shouldn't have. It's not even-oh, no, don't tell me."

"Today's the Sisterhooves, Twilight."

She slapped herself. "I know, I know, you told me before you went to bed, but I had to read up on this reconstruction magic and then it kept talking about the Pole Problem and none of these books could tell me what the problem with the poles is or why you would even need a pole-"

"I get it, Twilight. I get it." Spike walked up and set the tray on the tree stump table where they usually ate. "I'll put the cocoa away, and I'll warm up some milk instead. You just go lie down and rest."

Twilight closed her eyes. Her head felt like lead. She wanted to keep her eyes closed, desperately.

But she had made a promise. And she'd made it to someone dear to her. Even if Spike could forgive her, Twilight couldn't forgive herself. "No."

"No what?"

"No," she said, more forcefully this time. "I promised I'd take you to the Sisterhooves, so I'm taking you to the Sisterhooves."

Spike shrugged. "Look, it's no big deal. I can ask somepony else."

"But that somepony else wouldn't be me." She walked up to him and patted him on the back. "You wanted a day with me, and you've more than earned it."

"Umm, Twilight? That's really nice of you to say, but... I don't think you can really do much when you're like this. I mean, you look terrible. When did you even go to sleep?"

"Hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo, hoo!" Came a cry from the back.

"Assuming Owlowiscious can read clocks, about five in the morning."

"You can't go out like that."

"I can with a little bit of magic. I managed to pick up some interesting spells from this pile while I was browsing through them. Including a 'Stay Awake' spell." A quick zap from her horn, an electric shiver through her body, and she was fine. Her eyes were no longer blurry, her ears perked, her smile came back. "There we go. Now, I appreciate the breakfast in bed, Spike, but we've got too much of a mess here and I'd really rather not stain these books."

"Besides the drooling, you mean."

"Yes," she replied curtly. "Besides that. So come on, we're eating dowstairs." She took the tray in her magic and trotted down.

"Okay, if you say so." Spike tilted his head to look at the covers of all the books scattered around. "Huh. Rings and Gem Magic, Student's Aid Of the Classical Age, that's probably where she got that spell..." He tilted his head to check the title of the book at the bottom.

"Spike?"

He quickly thought the better of it. Trying to keep track of what Twilight was reading was like trying to count rampaging rabbits: the results changed every time you tried, your eyes had to keep darting from one thing to the next, and at the end you’d probably find yourself missing a few hares.

Hairless though he was, Spike didn’t bother wasting time trying to catch up. "Coming!"