//------------------------------// // 39. April Fools // Story: It's The End Of The World As We Know It // by Samey90 //------------------------------// There were times, when Flash Sentry had no idea what he was doing. This usually happened on Friday evenings, during the meetings of Canterlot High Society of Musicians. He didn’t appear there frequently, but this time Muffins basically dragged him there for some reason. Now he was sitting on the couch in Octavia’s flat, watching as Vinyl Scratch tried to play piano. He could see Octavia and Bon Bon cringing with every note while Lyra bobbed her head to the nonexistent rhythm. Muffins cleared her throat. “So, you may wonder why I gathered you here…” “Probably not to listen to Vinyl,” Bon Bon said. “Unless you really hate us.” Vinyl stopped playing and flipped Bon Bon off before starting to bang on the keys again, this time butchering a barely recognisable rendition of The Streets of Cairo. “Not really,” Muffins said, raising her voice. “I was just thinking that we should do something for Indigo and Sweet Leaf soon. Like, there’s April Fools soon…” “And Easter,” Lyra said. “For once, I can prank people telling them to hunt for nonexistent eggs.” Bon Bon groaned and rolled her eyes. “Way to go, Lyra.” “Way to succeed.” Lyra smirked. “And the way to suck eggs.” “Whatever,” Octavia muttered, turning to Muffins. “We already donated blood. Hell, I even managed to drag Vinyl there, but she fainted seeing the needle. And she somehow weighs about a hundred pounds despite eating more fast food than our whole basketball team, so she’s too light anyway.” “How is that even possible?” Flash asked. “Genetics.” Octavia rolled her eyes and turned back to Muffins. “Anyway, what would you want to do? Some concert?” “That’s what I was thinking, yeah,” Muffins replied. “Maybe raising some funds. I already talked to Indigo and Bulk about that…” “No way, Muffins!” Indigo exclaimed. “I don’t need money. Give them to Sweet Leaf’s mother. Or to sick children in Africa or whatever.” Bulk nodded. “It’s a good idea, but how do you want to organise all that? It’s just a few more days.” “I’ll think of something,” Muffins replied. “Besides, it’s not like it’s the first time, right? Also, Indigo, are you sure you don’t want money? You have a baby and you crashed your car…” “And my father is talking about football on TV for a living,” Indigo said. “Also, I don’t think I’ll need a car for a while…” She pointed at her leg. While her left hand was mostly healed by now, the complicated fractures of her femur, tibia, and fibula still needed time, another surgery to remove the screws, and a long rehabilitation to heal. How well it’d heal, Indigo preferred not to think. She just couldn’t imagine herself limping or groaning in pain with every step. “Indigo’s right,” Bulk said. “Sweet Leaf’s parents aren’t that well-off and who knows how long she’ll stay here.” “Assuming she ever gets out.” Indigo sighed. “I shouldn’t have let her drive with me.” “Who knew this would happen,” Bulk replied. “It wasn’t your fault.” “I was kinda distracted before the accident,” Indigo said. “I could’ve noticed this guy earlier…” “Bothering yourself with it won’t turn back time,” Muffins replied. “But we can still do something for Sweet Leaf, right?” Indigo rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She turned to Muffins. “Could you leave me and Bulk alone? I’m really not in a mood for anything right now and you’re giving me a headache.” Muffins nodded, backpedalling. “Okay, sure. I won’t be bothering you,” she said quickly before leaving the room. When she closed the door, Bulk looked at it before turning to Indigo. She noticed his expression and sighed. “Before you ask, I had to,” she muttered, lowering her head. “So… She generally agreed,” Muffins said. “She doesn’t want money, though.” Flash shrugged. “So, are we going to make a concert? This may take a while. People have schedules and such.” “We can always make a charity auction,” Muffins replied. “The highest bidder gets to spend a night with me.” “What?” Flash raised his eyebrows. Muffins smirked. “You know, so they can watch me as I shoot noobs in their fancy tanks.” Lyra started to chuckle. “Big cannons…” she managed to mutter before Bon Bon poked her. “As for schedules, I can come and play.” Octavia produced her phone. “Also, we’ll never know if we don’t ask.” She tapped on the screen. The low-pitched sound caused the walls of the rehearsal hall to shake. Everyone who could hear it—which probably included a few people in the street—winced, covering their ears. “Too much fret buzz,” Sandalwood said. “Also, I’m no bassist, but I’m pretty sure your technique is the best way to get carpal tunnel syndrome.” Sugarcoat sighed, looking at the instrument in her hands. “Well, just yesterday I didn’t know acoustic basses existed and now I’m trying to play one.” She yanked a string, causing it to hit against the frets with a metallic sound. She noticed Captain Planet groaning at that, so she did it again. “Do we really need a bass guitar anyway?” Paisley asked Sandalwood. “Especially since she clearly can’t play.” “Didn’t stop Vicious Sid,” Sugarcoat muttered, poking the strings with her fingers and trying different sounds – a wide variety of them, even though they were all horrible. “Yes, but we’re playing ecological folk and you’re neither ecological nor really into folk,” Captain Planet replied. “Oh, sorry that I don’t brag about the size of my carbon footprint.” Sugarcoat rolled her eyes. Before Sandalwood could say something, they heard some regular buzzing sound. “It’s not me this time,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Sorry.” Paisley grabbed her phone. “Octavia? What? Of course we can. Once we kick out our bassist. Yes, we have a bassist… For about five minutes. Yes. Cheers.” “What’s up?” Captain Planet asked. “Octavia asked if we’d play a gig for Sweet Leaf,” Paisley replied. “Sure,” Captain Planet said. Sandalwood nodded. “Of course.” “I can’t play bass,” Sugarcoat muttered. “Or anything, for that matter.” Captain Planet smirked. “You’re fired.” Rainbow Dash stood in the middle of the gym with her arms akimbo and shook her head. “What exactly are you doing, Twilight?” Twilight slipped off the incline bench and landed on the floor, gasping for air. “Dying, I think.” “Come on.” Rainbow Dash helped Twilight up and looked at her. “I know at least ten exercises that are better than sit-ups.” “Are we going to do all ten?” Twilight’s eyes widened. Rainbow Dash chuckled. “No, just one or two. Your stomach muscles will be pretty sore tomorrow anyway, I guess.” Twilight’s muscles tensed at this perspective, but before Rainbow could show her any of the exercises, they heard her phone ringing. Rainbow Dash sighed and walked to the window, picking the phone up from the sill. “What’s up?” she asked. “Octavia? Easter? Can do. Pinkie and Fluttershy may be unavailable, but if we drag some replacement drummer out of the closet… Wait, Flash Drive is playing? Ask Flash if we can borrow Brawly Beats for a few songs. until Pinkie joins us. Because I’m sure she’ll get there even if she’d have to be in two places at once… Yeah. See you.” She tapped the screen and turned to Twilight. “We’ll be playing for Sweet Leaf on Sunday.” “Cool,” Twilight replied. “Who else is playing? I need to work on the schedule so the transitions between bands are–” Rainbow Dash waved her hand. “Yeah, sure. Flash’s band, Sandalwood’s band, Octavia…” She looked at her phone. “Wait, I wonder if they called Trixie.” The Great and Powerful Trixie had to work on her image. Unlike with Rainbow Dash, it didn’t meant frequent exercise to keep herself at the top of her physical prowess, but rather frequent beauty sleeps. She just turned in her bed, when she heard her phone ringing. Some people thought using Tricks Up My Sleeve as a ringtone was too excessive even for Trixie, but she didn’t care. It took a while before she opened her eyes and realised the song wasn’t a part of her dream. Groaning, Trixie grabbed the phone and picked up the call. “Rainbow Dash?” she asked. “Do you know what time is it? Not even nine PM? The Great and Powerful Trixie doesn’t give a damn about that! What? A concert? Trixie doesn’t know… Wait, you’re going? Yeah, then Trixie is going to play too. Of course Trixie is better! Bye.” She put the phone on the nightstand and lay her head on her pillow. Next to her, something moved and Lavender Lace’s head emerged from under the blanket. Her hair was messy and it seemed that she didn’t quite wake up yet. “What’s going on?” she asked, resting herself on Trixie’s arm. “We have a show to play,” Trixie replied. “Right now?” Lavender looked down at her outfit, realising that it was rather incomplete. “Where’s Fuchsia when you need her?” “Shh… Not now,” Trixie muttered, patting Lavender’s head. “Go back to sleep.” Contrary to Flash’s fears, the rehearsals started soon after. Despite such a short notice, the bands soon swarmed the concert hall in the youth centre, filling it with guitar riffs, drumbeats, and assorted sounds made by someone who couldn’t play an accordion, but still had a lot of enthusiasm. Muffins slid the bow across the saw, causing Octavia to shudder and turn to her, still wincing. “Hey, I thought the ‘No Stairway to Heaven’ rule doesn’t apply if you play it on a saw,” Muffins said. “It’s not that,” Octavia replied, plucking the string of her cello and tuning it a bit lower. “Your saw is the only instrument that can make Stairway to Heaven sound that hellish.” “You should see me playing theremin then.” Muffins smiled. “I sometimes creep off my neighbours by playing saw in the middle of the night, but theremin has quite an impact too.” “Undoubtedly,” Octavia muttered, looking around the rehearsal hall. “Seems that it’s going better than expected. I still don’t get why I’m supposed to play after you and before Lyra and Bon Bon.” “We both use bows when playing,” Muffins replied. “Also, cello is used in classical music, but so is piano. Twilight’s words, not mine.” Octavia sighed. “Oh bugger, is she trying for smooth transitions between bands again? Someone should tell her this is not how it works.” “Well, she was in Crystal Prep.” Muffins started playing her saw again, causing someone’s glass of water to break. “They don’t seem to have many musical talents…” “I don’t get what’s so exciting about it,” Indigo said. “I mean, rock covers using classical instruments are cool, but it’s all been done, I think.” Bulk put his violin down. “Well, it’s always nice to hear something like this live. Also, Octavia prepared a few surprises, like cello versus musical saw duel.” Indigo shrugged. “It doesn’t look like they’re letting me out to see this. Unless someone streams the whole thing and even then, wi-fi in the hospital is rather wonky.” Bulk smirked. “Actually, I’ve heard your friends want to kidnap you from the hospital. I think it was Lemon’s idea.” “Really?” Indigo rolled her eyes. “I need to tell Lemon to chill out. I’d want to get out, of course, but I also don’t want to break something again. Broken or not, I like my leg.” “Yeah, it would be bad if they had to cut it off,” Bulk muttered. “Don’t even say that!” Indigo exclaimed. “That’s still possible. You know, if it doesn’t want to heal.” Bulk leaned over the bed, hugging Indigo and kissing her. “You’re a strong girl. That stupid leg won’t stop you.” “Slow me down, maybe,” Indigo muttered. “I have a lot of time to think now… About us and the baby…” “You want to keep it?” Bulk asked. “No, of course not,” Indigo replied. “Still, I think being like, ‘welcome to this world, we don’t want you, deal with it’ is bad. Still better than trying to raise it by ourselves.” “Well, that sounds kinda selfish,” Bulk said. “We don’t want this baby because it’d mess up our lives. If we–” “Don’t,” Indigo muttered. “If we keep it, we won’t go to the college and end up unemployed and possibly disabled.” She looked at her leg. “The kid deserves to have better parents than that. And one day, when we’re ready, we may try again.” “But will we?” Bulk asked. “Oh, don’t start it now…” Indigo groaned, lying back on her bed. The concert hall was ready. Hanging the Easter-themed decorations on the walls and hiding chocolate eggs in random places took a while and ended shortly before the start of the concert, but nevertheless it was all done. There wasn’t much of a crowd. Many people were spending Easter with their families, sometimes far from the town. When Vinyl went on the stage to check the speakers, she noticed that Norman and most of the girls usually surrounding him weren’t there. Only Starlight stood next to the stage, accompanied by Sophisticata and Drama Letter. Sunny Flare, meanwhile, stood by the door, watching the people carefully. She wore a pair of rather ridiculous sunglasses covering a half of her face, as well as a leather jacket, combat trousers, and a pair of heavy boots. Sugarcoat raised her eyebrows – she’d never suspected Sunny even had such an outfit in her closet. “What is wrong with you?” Sugarcoat asked. “If you were trying to blend with the crowd, you failed.” “I’d rather avoid people from Canterlot High,” Sunny whispered. “What if someone remembers about the selfies? Also, this outfit is flawless.” “I like it,” Lemon said. “Do you also ride a motorbike?” “Motorbike? Do you want to kill me?” Sunny sighed and turned to Sugarcoat. “Also, I can assure you that no one will recognise me.” The door of the hall opened and Twilight walked inside, accompanied by Timber Spruce and Gloriosa Daisy. “Hi, Sunny!” she exclaimed, walking past them. “Hello,” Sunny deadpanned. “What’s up?” “Timber and I are going to a vacation together,” Twilight replied. “How about you?” “I’m suffering a serious blow to my self-esteem caused by the fact that you and Sugarcoat are in relationships while Lemon and I are like nuns.” Sunny sighed and turned to Lemon. “Wait, aren’t you gay or something? I could always start…” Lemon took a step back. “I’m not that gay,” she muttered. “See?” Sunny shrugged. “Any cool girls in Canterlot High?” “Several,” Timber said, earning a poke from both Gloriosa and Twilight. “Did you just say ‘girls’?” Sugarcoat raised her eyebrows. “I’ll remember that.” Sunny smiled sheepishly. “I’ve seen enough guys from Canterlot High to know it’s not the best idea.” She looked at the people gathering around the stage. “Well, maybe that one is cute.” “I know him,” Twilight said. “His name is Snails, he’s sixteen, and he’s really interested in molluscs.” “Sixteen? I’ll wait.” Sunny shrugged. “Though on the other hand, beggars can’t be choosers.” Sugarcoat looked at the stage. “Seems that the concert is about to start.” They walked towards the stage. There were a few more people there now, although Sugarcoat was pretty sure most of them were either going to perform later or they were friends and families of the musicians. The lights went out. They heard a fanfare and, guided by a beacon light, Vinyl Scratch entered the stage. Sugarcoat knew it wasn’t possible, but it seemed like Vinyl got even taller and thinner than the last time they met. “Hello there,” Vinyl said. “We pranked you, there’s no concert. Goodbye, you can go home.” About half of the crowd stared at her in confusion while the rest laughed. “Okay, I’m joking here,” Vinyl said. “Be sure to subscribe to my channel, five subscribers so far and they all hate my pranks. But the truth is, someone already made an anonymous donation for Sweet Leaf’s therapy and rehabilitation. Ten thousand dollars, I shit you not.” Lemon Zest turned to Sunny Flare. “Of course you don’t know who was that, do you?” “Uh-huh,” Sunny Flare muttered. “I may have talked to my dad…” “Your talks were pretty effective,” Sugarcoat said. “Who plays first? Some classical ensemble?” “It’s that girl with a cello that also plays soccer,” Lemon said. “And some guys playing piano and harp.” “And a girl with a tuba,” Sunny said. “Hey, Bulk is there too.” “It’s a sousaphone,” Sugarcoat muttered, producing her phone. “I’d better record that for Indigo.” Sunny raised her eyebrows. “Gesundheit.” She shrugged, seeing that the crowd moved in such a way that the guy she’d noticed earlier was now close to her. She pushed herself between people getting closer to him. “Hello,” she said when the band started playing a rendition of Mrs. Robinson. “Do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk around you again?” “Holy shit,” Lemon muttered. “Did she forget how to pick guys up while sober?” “Column left, march,” Sugarcoat replied. “In case shit happens, we don’t know her.” The band went through classical versions of a couple of songs from 1960s to 1990s. At some point, they were joined by Muffins, who accompanied them on her saw, causing the weaker of the spectators to retreat to the buffets. Sugarcoat noticed quite a few newcomers. It seemed that the donations were going swimmingly. “Hey, that’s cool,” Lemon said, making a pirouet. “Also, do you think this girl with a trumpet is a lesbian?” Sugarcoat rolled her eyes. “It’s a sousaphone.” “Whatever,” Lemon replied. “Of the girls I’ve been romantically involved with last year, one is in a coma and the other turned out to be a psycho bitch who is where she belongs.” “Aren’t you a bit harsh for Sour?” Sugarcoat asked. Lemon sighed. “Well, you’ve never asked her if she was a bit harsh for me.” “Point taken,” Sugarcoat said, looking for Twilight. It seemed that she'd gone to dance with her friends from Canterlot High. Sugarcoat only sighed at that, turning back to Lemon. The band just finished playing. Vinyl and some of her friends were just preparing the stage for Lyra and Bon Bon, when Sunny Flare joined Sugarcoat and Lemon. She hid her sunglasses in her pocket; they could see her eyes being wide and that she was sweating heavily. “We have to leave,” she said. "Right now." “Did this guy call police on you?” Sugarcoat asked. "Or did someone get out of the closet, asking you to take a seat?' “No, he instantly fell in love,” Sunny replied. “But after hearing more facts about snails that I’m comfortable with, I decided that my standards aren’t that low.” “Deal with it, we have to stay,” Sugarcoat said. “I need to see Sandalwood or else he’s gonna be salty. Like, I was in this band for five minutes, right? Also, I'd like to see Trixie, she has some good songs. Oh, and Lemon is currently drooling after seeing a sousaphone player with rather big, umm… virtues.” She made a round gesture around her breasts. “Hey, I’m not drooling!” Lemon exclaimed. “You will be…” Sugarcoat turned towards the buffets, pointing at Octavia and the sousaphone player looking at food. “Nah.” Lemon waved her hand. “How’d it look like? I’m going to her and I’m like ‘hey, you were really good with that big trumpet, do you happen to be a lesbian’? Foolish.” Sugarcoat raised her eyebrows. “It’s a sousaphone. Also, since when you don’t want to flirt with the first random person that catches your eye during a party?” “Since everyone I meet turns out to be an idiot, a psychopath, or…” Lemon sighed. “Well, once Sour ended up in the hospital, Sweet Leaf ditched me completely and kept visiting her. And that’s even though I told her what Sour did to me…” “Don’t speak ill of the dead. Or dying. Whatever.” Sugarcoat shrugged. “I always thought it was a dumb rule. If you were a wanker when you were alive, death doesn’t make you less of a wanker.” “Can I quote that in my speech during your funeral?” Sunny asked. “Also, Lemon, you should try. Can’t be worse than this Snails guy…” “You think so?” Lemon asked. Sunny raised her hands. “Satisfaction not guaranteed.” “Okay, I’m in.” Lemon walked towards the buffets. At the stage, Lyra Heartstrings just sat on the piano to sing Nobody Does It Better; Lemon started to hum the melody, passing the people with grace. “– and then I told her ‘what a crock of shit’.” Octavia chuckled and took a sip of tea. “Like, she can’t possibly think that a flute–” “Hello,” Lemon said. Octavia turned to her. “Lemon Zest, right? Hello. This is Beauty Brass, my bandmate. She plays–” “A sousaphone, I know,” Lemon replied. Beauty Brass smiled. “Oh, finally someone who knows how it’s called.” She lay her hand on Lemon’s arm. “Who are you, Lemon Zest?” Lemon chuckled. “Just some fool, I guess…”