On my way back to Twilights I thought about the flyer in my pocket. I pulled it out and read the information I sort of skimmed over the first time. I learned that they were looking for help with performing arts; they were looking for another person to play with them. I thought back to my bass, would they accept that? I decided to stop by and talk, even if they didn’t want a bassist.
I looked for an address and found that they lived relatively close, by the looks of it anyway. So I just kept on walking, you see, Ponyville is sort of one big circle. If you kept on walking down a road, you would find your destination, unless said destination is on another street. I knew they lived on this street from the address so I just looked for the right numbers on the house.
After about 5 minutes of walking I had found what I was looking for. A modern looking house that looked more like a small apartment complex from New York.
I walked up to the front door and knocked. “One second!” this wasn’t a voice I knew, I was wondering about how this new pony would react to a human. My thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. When she didn’t see a ponies face about where my crotch was, she looked up a little more to see my chest, she looked a little higher to see my face and just stared. After a few seconds of staring she must have decided that I was dangerous, as was quite a few things around here apparently, because she started attacking me with her hooves yelling “AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!”
I immediately put my arms up to protect my face. Wrong move. You see, she is much shorter than me, even on her back legs she is still a few inches short, and when my arms went up she went for where a stallions head would be, and she was not nice about it either. One hit and I was on the ground with an audible *thud*.
Her screaming aroused many around and when the sound reached Octavia’s ears she realized something was wrong, she rushed down the stairs to find vinyl scratch, her room-mate, beating poor defenseless me.
“Vinyl! What are you doing?!” she rushed over to vinyl and pushed her away from me and started inspecting my body. Making sure that her roommate hadn’t caused any major harm. When she found none, other than me holding my crotch in agony which she knew better than to inspect, she turned to vinyl “Vinyl. You don’t just beat somepony when they knock!”
“But he’s not a pony!” the white mare yelled back.
“Good point but what made you beat Dillon up and not spike?”
“Spikes a baby dragon, ‘Dillon’ is not. Plus spike was with a pony, twilight, and ‘Dillon’ was not.”
“Just… ugh. Dillon are you ok?” I almost tried to speak but remembered the last time I was kicked there, and that stereotype where guys voices get pushed up about three octaves is very true. So I just nodded, got up, still holding my crotch, and hobbled inside to sit on the couch. After a few minutes, and what sounded like a scolding from Octavia in another room, they both came out and apologized for what happened. When I had calmed down and I was sure my voice was back to normal I addressed them.
“So, I came here today because you were looking for help. I am willing to be part of your little ensemble if you’ll let me.” I decided to continue to use the accent when around these high and tidy ponies. I would just have to remember to let out my real voice sometime before I leave.
“Yes, we were looking for a new part, we were a quartet and one of us was recruited to play in the royal orchestra. Our popularity dropped for some reason and we think it had something to do with our losing a piece. Do you play something?”
“Yes, but I do warn you it has been a while. I might be a little rusty, but I always found it to be like riding a bicycle.”
“A what?” vinyl said in a confused tone, Octavia’s brow was also furrowing.
“Never mind. I could always relearn it fairly quickly, even after a long while.”
“Well, don’t keep us in suspense, what do you play?” this was Octavia, almost a little excited.
“The bass.” I said with a small smirk.
“You mean like…” and she imitated a pony playing a bass. This was slightly amusing to me, they have hooves, yet they can still play stringed instruments.
“Yes, I was first chair for many years in my fairly large ensemble.” I hoped I looked at least a little proud, while this was true, I was also the only bass in my strings class, so naturally, the best is also the worst, but they didn’t need to know this now. Octavia was quite excited at this news. She beamed to have someone like this in her party. “you wouldn’t happen to have one do you?”
“Oh heavens no, those are expensive and our last piece was flute. Sorry.”
“Oh that’s no issue, I just need help to where the closest musical instrument maker, you see I was just paid today and I think I have enough to buy one on my own accord.” As this was true, it would also leave me broke. I also had to keep it in working condition and that alone would be a possible problem, I would need to find a steady source of income. Rarity just wouldn’t cut it.
“The closest one is just down the road a few blocks, but I would strongly recommend the Mares music shop. Their instruments are exceedingly acceptable.” She said this almost like she was advertising it.
“Ok and where would that be?” the name sounded oddly familiar though.
“They are on the other side of town; you just go and ask someone over there. They know the place better than either of us.”
“Ah, I’ll go do that now, and sorry I couldn’t stay long, but,” I looked out the window to see the sun slowly setting. “It is getting a little late and I would like to get that bass before I forget. Bye.”
“bye.” They said in unison. And I walked away.
I went straight for the other side of town, and asked a trustworthy-looking-pony where the shop was. They pointed me to a small store on a corner with a sign hanging off of the overhang that read ‘Mares Music’ with a faded MM in fancy writing behind it. I thanked the pony and went inside. As I entered a bell rang out just like at rarity’s boutique. And a stallion came to the front and asked “hello, what can I do for you?”
“Do you make instruments here? I was told to come here if I ever had any needs.” I was more surprised of his lack of shock when a human walked into his store.
“Why, yes, the name doesn’t give it away? Oh well, what do you need made?”
“How much is your most expensive bass?” I knew I actually didn’t have that much, but this guy looked like he needed the money and I wasn’t about to go on stage with a cheap ass instrument that threatened to break under the strain of just the strings.
“Hmm,” he looked me over and started walking over to a decent bass that still didn’t look like it was high quality. “May I suggest this one for someone like you?”
“In case you’re wondering, you heard right, I want your most expensive bass.” I put one eyebrow up and he sighed.
“Ok, the most expensive one is in the back. I’ll be right back.” He walked through a door that lead to what I believe to be the storage area. He came back only a few seconds later with a great looking bass on his back. It looked to be gold incrusted on the edges and was in fine shape. “I can give it to you for 300 bits or 350 over the course of the next month. Your choice.”
I tossed the bag I had gotten from rarity on the counter “how much is in there?”
He picked it up in a hoof and tossed it around a bit “I’d say about 400, give or take 20.”
“Keep the change.” I proceeded to pick up the bass and walk away when he stopped me.
“Now just wait, you can't expect me to just take an extra hundred bits off you like that.”
“Heh, only fifty, I chose the 350 plan, I just put all of my money on the table today. I'm a very impatient person, you see. And the extra fifty is a tip, thank you for your services.” He was absolutely awestruck.
“A-and thank you for your patronage.” And with that I left.
The walk back to twilights was fairly quiet. But as soon as I opened the door a flying chair must have missed its runway because it smashed into the wall about a foot from my head. Over the years I have dodged many things, pillows, baseballs, and at some point a piano. But never had a chair been thrown at me. I looked to where the chair used to be to see an enraged purple pony with her tail and main nearly on fire. They were smoking and I was afraid for her safety.
“you and I have unfinished business.” She said in an almost demonic voice. ‘shit’