//------------------------------// // Chapter 14 // Story: Tall Tale of Sweet Sauce // by Starscribe //------------------------------// The worst part for Sweet Sauce wasn't living with an earth pony. If anything, Octavia did a far better job matching his expectations for decorum. Living with her was a great deal like growing up in the Castle of the Two Sisters—it meant politeness, but also an uncompromising obedience to the rules. So long as Sweet made it to class on time, and got his homework done, the rest was up to him. No, the worst part of Sweet's new life in Equestria was what didn't happen. The new princess knew what he was, knew why he waited for judgement. All she had to do was deliver his message to Princess Celestia, and Sweet's mission would be complete. Whether that ended in reconciliation, or execution, he didn’t get to decide. After a few days that meant letting him out unsupervised again, not just with Octavia or Vinyl watching over him like a pegasus playing with an amusingly-shaped cloud. But there was little for him to do, so little reason to run off on his own. Sweet Sauce was still waiting on the princess to arrive, there was no reason to take risks with daring escape plans. Besides, trying to steal from them would mean missing Vinyl's concert.  He used this new freedom to spend time with the other ponies his age. Not because he enjoyed the activities they did—obviously those were beneath him. But he'd even take silly earth pony games over wandering around an empty house or staring at a wall. Part of him was tempted to visit the library and catch up on a few of the old magical journals, but he had a feeling Twilight wouldn't let him check those out anyway.  His patience with the indignity of it all eventually paid off, and it was time for Vinyl's concert. Well, concert was a bit generous, given she'd booked out an empty warehouse at the far end of town. But by the time the sun set, a line was already forming down the road, and the sound of distant bass shook the town from streets away. No wonder the locals didn't want her performing there too often. There were no ponies his age in line, and he discovered why as soon as he stepped into the building from the back, and the scent washed over him. This wasn't the kind of place that little ponies were usually allowed to go. Unfortunately that also meant Sweet only got to see the concert from in back. "You're waaay too young to be out in the audience, Sweet. But don't worry, you're not missing out on much from that side—just lots of sweaty ponies doing weird dances you wouldn't understand, and gross-tasting drinks you wouldn't want. If anyone brings something from over there, don't drink it by mistake, okay? You'll hate it." "Not for the reasons you think," he replied. Of course he'd have to adjust anything he drank to the weight of a creature his old self could've held with one hoof. But more than that, it was the mouthwash-tier smell coming from behind the black curtains. Those ponies weren't drinking because they wanted to enjoy the craft—they were drinking to be drunk. "I need none of the intoxicants of the lower class. A real beverage serves only to enhance the faculties, not muddy them." The mare nudged his shoulder energetically. "Octavia's wearing off on you already, I see. Cool cool. Just don't want to get either of us in trouble. Rules are lame, but if you break 'em, you can't come until you're older." She gestured around them with a hoof. Backstage wasn't particularly large, most of the space was occupied by cables and equipment. They stretched from one end to the other, bundling together into a mass that traveled through the curtains to Vinyl's musical setup. "But the other stuff is cool, right?" He nodded at the tiny crew area, with its boxes of sweets, coffee, drinks. Not the kind that would make ponies forget who they were and have foals they'd regret in a few months.  "Yeah, yeah," Vinyl turned away from him. "I told the manager you'd be here. Be cool, and he'll let you come back next time." She left him to his own devices. Before he could get into any trouble, the performance started. He could only imagine what it looked like on the other side—but he could hear it, and that was what mattered. Vinyl hadn't been exaggerating when she said she was communicating with the audience. It was more than a simple call and response—Vinyl varied the music she played as the mood of the audience shifted and swayed. And it was loud, much more than anything he'd heard in Equestria before. The whole building shook with it, carrying him along even if he had to hear it from behind. Sweet's stupid useless foal body got tired after only a short percentage of the performance, despite all the excitement. But what biology could not do, a few cups of coffee could supplement. Being completely wired only made the music sound better. The one thing he'd actually missed about the world of his banishment, and he didn't even need to give it up after all. The princess's child services department had handed it back without even asking. But then something went wrong. He was barely even watching anything anymore, staked out on a couch near the speakers where he could listen. He saw the assistant-ponies tinkering with something off to the side of the room. That crew left him alone, so he had no reason to bother them in return.  But then the lights flickered, and sparks flashed from that side of the room. A pony went spinning backward through the air, trailing magical sparks. She landed in a confused heap, her mane still shaking to the sway of music that wasn't playing from that speaker anymore. The music continued, transformed from stereo to mono. That wasn't just half the volume gone, it was the better part of the intensity. Sweet rolled out of his couch, frustrated. "She plugged it back in, look what happened to her." "I don't see what's wrong, it looks the same to me." "It's the cords, they're in the wrong spots." As he approached, Sweet heard the remaining ponies conversing in hushed, urgent voices. They stared down at the back of the speaker assembly as though it really were the lost runes of an ancient and powerful magic. And behind the curtain, he heard something even worse: a disappointed audience.  "Fix your magic!" someone yelled.  "Boo!" Sweet Sauce might not have any magic, but he had a little earth pony strength. He shoved his way past two terrified ponies, directly up to the mass of cables. Their ends still sizzled and popped with magical sparks, glowing red. Did Vinyl use her own magic to power this? "You don't belong here," said one from the side, trying to push him back with a wing. That was Spotlight, the manager. "Vinyl would kill us if something happened to you." He dodged out of the way. "Then you'll be fine." Did she seriously not hire anyone who knew how her equipment worked? Sweet might've been stunned into the same indecision as the other ponies, except he'd spent years working with this stuff while banished. In that world, an accident wouldn't just leave your mane glowing for a few seconds, it would stop your heart. These were musical connectors, not municipal. But there was an identical configuration on the other side of the room. Besides, they were color coded.  Before anypony could grab him, Sweet took the smallest connector in his mouth, careful not to get anywhere near the silvery contacts. He pushed it into place on one of the side-units, then another. The ponies instantly backed away from him, eyeing their fallen comrade nervously. Even Spotlight looked nervous, though he kept reaching halfheartedly for Sweet. "Come on kid. That stuff's not a toy." "No," he whispered harshly back. "But it's not a bomb either." He went from smallest to largest, matching colors each time. Nothing exploded, nothing flashed, and each pair brought back a little more sound. The angry crowd behind the curtain stopped yelling. Finally, he plugged the thickest cable into the base, and it started thumping pleasantly again. He turned his back on the configuration, marching past the staring assistants with the greatest possible concentration of smugness he could muster. "Who the buck is that?" somepony whispered. One of the crew, he didn't care which. They obviously weren't worthy of learning their names. Vinyl had probably just hired a few locals to help move her boxes around. "How did he do that?" "He's her kid," Spotlight whispered back. "Guess she trained him. Makes sense. She didn't want to spring for anypony technical behind the curtain for such a small venue. I kept saying it was a bad idea—she just didn't want to tell me the foal was doing it. Legal might raise some eyebrows." "Ooooh." But Sweet didn't care what they had to say, not anymore. They could nurse their companion awake, and he could enjoy the rest of the performance. Needless to say, the backstage ponies kept well away from Vinyl's gear after that. By the time the mare finally came backstage for the last time, she'd been transformed by her performance. Her mane stood on end, and she carried a heady mixture of pony and alcohol smells. Her ears and tail sagged, but there was still some energy to her voice as she approached the manager. "Great work, everypony. Nice save with the lights an hour ago. Ponies don't come lining up for half a show." "Nice save having the kid around," Spotlight said, pointing vaguely over at Sweet's couch. He was still mostly awake by then, honest. The coffee could keep him up past midnight. He wasn't nodding off. "We'd be two hours past sunrise without Celestia if it wasn't for him." "What?" Vinyl tried to look covertly at him. It was easier for him to pretend not to notice when he was so tired. "Was that his fault?" "No!" Spotlight waved his wings energetically. "Something got tangled after your second set, and there was a little feedback, and we lost the whole right. Your foal marched right over and hooked it back up like he'd been doing this for longer than we've been working together." "That's... cool." Vinyl turned, crossing the stage to where he sat. He forced himself to sit up straighter, meeting her eyes. He didn't care what she thought about him, that would be stupid. He just had to make sure she didn't get the wrong idea and think he was tired so early. "What did you think of the show?" she asked. "As awesome as you hoped?" He nodded. "I knew Equestrian music could be more than just strings and woodwinds." "That kind is cool too," she said, patting him once on the shoulder. "But that stuff is supposed to make you think. I help ponies party." She lowered her voice, glancing across the room at her crew. They'd already started moving again, taking things apart. They didn't look like they knew what was going on any better than they had a few minutes before. "Did you really help keep the show going?" He nodded again. He didn't try to look away this time, there was no reason not to be proud of his work. The show went on, and nothing blew up. That was a critical success. "I think you won over Spotlight," she said, grinning wider. "I'm sure he'll let you come again. Maybe next time we can get you to a venue that's more appropriate for your age. I do the Nightmare Night festival in Canterlot Castle this year—lots of younger ponies go to that. The punch is... just fruit, usually." "Yeah." He grinned tiredly back at her. "Canterlot Castle? Could I bring my friends?" "We'll talk to their parents about it. And I'll have to make sure Octavia is cool with it. She's never gonna guess you were so talented!"