//------------------------------//
// 5 - Thou Shalt Be Enjoying It Dearly™ 
// Story: The Amazing Adventures of Vinyl Scratch and Octavia Melody 
// by aricaitlyn 
//------------------------------//

Vinyl Scratch, world-class DJ and musician extraordinaire, was chilling in the foyer, blasting dubstep music. She smiled and eased her body into a comfortable position, her Ponybeatz™ headphones snuggling against her ears.

Suddenly, a loud screech sounded from Octavia's room. Vinyl put down the music. "I'm coming, Octie!" she hollered as she dashed up the steps.

Octavia sat on the carpet, weakly sobbing. Her cello lay broken on the floor next to her.

"Oh...my...Celestia..." Vinyl gasped. She picked up the broken neck of the instrument and examined it. "Wow," she repeated.

"I was just playing it, then I stepped away for a minute...I guess it wasn't on its stand all the way or something, but..."  Octavia quickly wiped her still-flowing tears. "I'll just pick up a job at McLuna's. To pay for repairs, of course."

"I'll get a job, too," Vinyl added eagerly. "We can earn twice the money that way!"

"Oh, you don't have to do that, Vinyl. A nice gesture, really, but for once this is my problem."

"No! I insist!"





Soon, both Octavia and Vinyl were wearing red shirts, yellow ties, and dinky little visors with the Lunar Arch across the bill.

"I look so cute!" Vinyl Scratch exclaimed, happy to be wearing something other than her trademark glasses. "And so do you, Tavi!"

"No," Octavia corrected. "We look ridiculou-"

Oct's griping was cut short by the entrance of a mare and her little filly. "A customer!" Vinyl exclaimed.

"I'd like a #4 with no ketchup, a large Joke with extra ice, small fry, and filly's Lunar Meal," the customer called off, squinting at the menu above Octavia's head.

Octavia expertly punched in the order, then called it back to the ponies in the kitchen. In almost an instant, the hay fries were packaged, the toy was tossed in the Lunar Meal box, the grass burger was put together with a lack of ketchup, and the soda was poured. The customer and her daughter accepted the order with smiles and trotted off to enjoy the greasy fast food.





"Well, we sure earned a lot of money." Vinyl grinned. She wasn't used to having all this money just lying around. In fact, she was practically losing her mind with the inability to spend it all.

"It's still not enough. The cello is broken beyond repair," Octavia replied sadly.

"Well, how much does it cost to replace it?"

"900,000 bits."

Vinyl let out a low whistle in reply. Octavia sighed and flopped herself onto the bed dramatically. She began to sob loudly.

"I'm just going to give up music! Who ever heard of the 'Broken Cello Overture in Gray' anyway? Vinyl, just spend all of the money on your 'deejay swag' or whatever. I'll just-"

Octavia immediately bolted upright from her bed, leaving the melancholy mood behind. "I'll take up your instruments, Vinyl! You hardly play them, and they sure do look easy! So many of them are built like my cello! I'll be playing the electric bass in no time, and I won't even drop it once!" She began running towards the music room and Vinyl followed nervously.





Octavia was playing Vinyl's electric bass. She held it like the cello, and looked a little confused. She was playing a few notes, they just sounded wobbly and weak. "I rock!" Octavia shouted.

Vinyl gasped as Octavia roughly rammed her hooves on a nearby keyboard, creating a tune with no purpose.

"Oct, stop!" Vinyl protested.

But her roommate didn't seem to hear. Octavia clutched a microphone in her hooves. Vinyl could only watch reluctantly as those first few notes were sang:

"Call upon the seaponies when you're in distress!"

As soon as Octavia finished her song, the music room window cracked. A gray projectile of sorts flew through the now-open window and into a glass of water. Vinyl looked down into the glass. The projectile was actually a small octopus in Octavia's likeness. It was gray, and it even wore a pink bow tie.

"I was afraid that would happen," Vinyl remarked.