//------------------------------//
// II 
// Story: Smoke & Records 
// by Paper_Pen 
//------------------------------//

Pen and Note trotted down the city streets of lower Manehattan, huddled in their scarves as the snowy weather beat down into their coats. Today was an especially bad one, a freak accident at the weather factory unleashing a snowstorm that everypony on the ground would just have to deal with. Nonetheless the city that never slept didn't exactly have time to hide inside with hot cocoa, the lifeblood of commerce refused to stop flowing and not a single shop had closed, even the ponies on street corners who sold designer clothing brands at suspiciously discounted prices had only relocated to take shelter in alleys as they sold their wares. 

This second kind of merchant was what the pair were after, in particular a mare only known by the name Shady Soup. Soup was a lot of things, the neighborhood's cheapest weed dealer, a classically trained brewer of usually regulated potions, and most importantly the kind of pony who usually happened to have a little bit of everything ready to sell for a quick bit.

"Soup, what the buck is up?" Note greeted, finally spotting the mare hiding out in an alley.

"Business sucks, but it's too cold for the cops to leave their damn pigpens so-" She shrugged with a smirk, "What ya' buyin'?"

"I'll have the usual'!" Note ordered casually, exchanging a hoof full of bits for a zipped plastic baggie filled with a potent plant.

"What about you, horn-face?" Soup turned her attention to Pen, "I got this super cursed book that keeps whispering to me in my dreams, sound like somethin' you'd want?"

"Uh… actually I was looking for the Daring Do original series audiobooks-" Pen stuttered.

"Hey, idiot, do I look like a Noble Barn's?" Soup sneered, "And why do you want audiobooks? Oh- are you going blind? If you don't need your eyes no more I got this great scam-"

"They're not for me!" Pen exclaimed, "Do you know anypony who'd have them around here?"

"No chance!" She shrugged, "Sassafras might have but the ol' MHPD locked her stock up after she got caught selling timberwolf puppies."

"Bucking- ugh-" Pen groaned, turning back to Note, "Well that's that, I guess I should just buy her a Radioherd cassette or something…"

"Wanna bum the tracks from one of mine? My recording setup copies them real nice." Note offered.

"Nah, she's way too much of an audiophile, any copy just won't sound good enough for her." Pen commented, reaching a hoof into his scarf and retrieving an old metal flask. He took a sip of the pumpkin spice cider inside, idly swishing the vessel around as he thought. "Wait… I have an idea, can I use your recording setup?"

"Break it and I murder you, but of course bud!" Note grinned, "You makin' her an EP or somethin'?"

"Nope. She's still getting those books!" Pen smiled, still planning out how he was going to go about this.

The pair stopped at an electronics store on the way back to their building, Pen spending what money he had on him to load up on cassette tapes. It would be an excessively time consuming and somewhat silly task for a payoff that was essentially just a slightly more personal bootleg, but he'd done far more simply for spite, what was reading a book into a microphone for somepony he genuinely enjoyed being around?

The process was as expected a slow one only made bearable by the presence of Note, who he had somehow convinced to read for several roles that needed a far more masculine voice than what Pen could muster. Note's marefried Canvas had also begrudgingly agreed to join the ordeal of a project if it meant getting it done any faster, provided of course that she took the lead role of Daring Do herself. After two semi sleepless days and enough coffee to kill an elephant three times over, the final product was recorded and painstakingly edited. As a final touch Pen arranged each tape into its own small wooden box, each one having a different kind of fabric or silk on its top as a non-visual signifier. The first one was the most special of all, its fabric a clipping from his beloved scarf.

Finally, it was time for the best part of any large project: celebratory drinks.