//------------------------------//
// Don't Forget the Lyrics: Seriously, Don't 
// Story: Unconventional Paneling 
// by FanOfMostEverything 
//------------------------------//

Twilight looked over the newest building in Ponyville, one with much sleeker construction than the usual wattle-and-daub look of most of the town's buildings. The lights and other electromantic features demanded a power transmission coil discretely worked into the building itself, receiving directly from the town dam. All-weather speakers played strains of eerily familiar music at almost subliminal volumes. All told, it wouldn't have looked out of place in the cooler outer neighborhoods of Manehattan.

"I'm really not sure about this." Twilight turned to the proprietor of the establishment, rolled her eyes, and lifted the mare's headphones. "I said I'm not sure about this."

Vinyl Scratch snorted and tried to pry her headphones out of Twilight's grip. After the telekinetic equivalent of a baby breezie trying to pry open a minotaur weightlifter's fingers, she grumbled, "Rude. Besides, what are you so worried about?" Her expression lightened as she smacked Twilight on the withers. "Couldn't have done this without you."

"This wasn't what I had in mind when I published my theory of applied magical harmonics."

Vinyl shrugged. "Hey, 'applied's right there in the name. What did you think ponies were going to do with it?"

Twilight's wings flared in agitation as she started pacing. "I don't know! Power sources dervied from the active use of the Elements of Harmony? Advanced pacification arrays? Something that isn't a heartsong karaoke parlor?"

Vinyl shook her head. "Sheesh. Genius is never appreciated in its own time. Can I have my phones back now or what?"

"Here," Twilight grunted, all but tossing them at the other mare. "I just don't understand how you set this up so quickly. I only heard about the idea today."

"Dude, it's Ponyville. I got the construction company that built your friendship school. Those guys have gotten so much practice, they could make a high-rise in a week." Vinyl set her headphones back in their accustomed place, but didn't cover her ears yet. "And it's not like the risk is that high. You're making this sound like the fish market on Dagon Street or something."

Twilight's mouth worked silently for a few moments. "Ponyville doesn't have a fish market. Or a Dagon Street."

"Oh yeah, guess that one was a bit before your time."

"What kind of risk does this place present?"

"Oh, you know." Vinyl bobed her head back and forth. "The usual deal with singing songs sung by the dead. Teensy chance you'll call 'em back through soul resonance. You should know; you wrote the article."

"What!?" Twilight shrieked. "I thought you were just using the applied harmonics to supersaturate an area to force heartsongs. You're calling back old ones!?"

"Sure. Haven't you ever wished you could go back and sing one of your old numbers?"

"Yes, but not to sing something that constitutes a necromantic ritual!"

"Relax," Vinyl said with a wave of a hoof. "What's the worst that could happen?"

A mare ran screaming from the karaoke parlor, chased by a scowling cream-coated specter whose curling orange locks writhed in the ethereal wake of her own passage. "Ya call up the song I sang t' my husband on the day he proposed an' ya ain't even got th' decency to sing along!?"

"I didn't know the words!"

Twilight and Vinyl watched the ghost of Pear Butter pursue the unfortunate for a few moments more before Vinyl said, "Okay, yeah, I kinda walked into that one."