Track 3.
I walked home from the grocery store one day and was recognized by two colts. “Wow, you're DJ pon3!” they exlaimed. “we really like your dubstep!” Dubstep? So that's what they started calling it?
I noticed the second colt trying to hide something behind his hooves. It was a dime-bag, these ponies where barely older than foals and they where going to try clove. I looked at them conspiratorially, this was a routine I've done many times before.
“Yeah, you don't know where I could score a hit cheap?” I asked, and sure enough, the colt produced the dime-bag from behind his hooves.
“Well, we do have this, but we were gonna smoke it tonight!” he said.
“Yeah, they wont let us in at the party if we didn't bring clove,” the other colt filled in. But I was insistent and In the end they gave me the bag anyway, eager to help out their idol.
“Have you tried ESAY?” I asked them.
“No, where can we get it?”
I stifled a giggle that I hope sounded less bitter than it was.
“No, it stands for 'Equestrian Study Association for Youth', they help young colts arrange their own clubs and events. Every Friday they throw a party, drug free. You should go.”
“Laaame!” the two colts announced in unison.
“Hey, you wanna know where I Dj-ed my first gig?”
“yeah?”
“At an ESAY party.”
“Awesome!”
The colts' opinion had spun around so fast I nearly got whiplash.
“Take this,” I told them and gave them a small token each. “show this at the door and they'll let you in for free. Tell them DJ Pon3 sent you.”
“We will!” I parted ways with the colts and my steps felt strangely heavy all the way to my apartment. Once inside, I tossed the dime bag in the trash alongside a few others.