I walk out the front door of my dorm, and check my class list. Basic Musical Suites up first, with a certain Doctor Edit Track.
I walk along the hallways, lookin for the correct classroom. 311... 312... 313... 314... Hold up a sec. I check my list again. Room 314. I moonwalk backwards to the classroom door, and open the door.
I walk in, and take a look around me. First one in.
"FIRST BLOOD!" I shout, the gamer inside peeking out. This wakes up the teacher, who I hadn't noticed. Colt, unicorn, short, brown coat, a sound line as a cutie mark, brown eyes, brown spiked hair, and some odd red hat.
He looks at me. I look back at him. "How's it goin' teach?"
"Good?" He replies questioningly. "And who might you be?"
I take a second look at him. He's not that old. Maybe only a few years older the I am, four at a max. "Vinyl Scratch, teach"
"Ah. So..." He trails off. I notice him give me a quick look over. I might have a little fun teasing him.
"So what's that red thing, teach?" I'm so fascinated by it that I'm not even checking out the computers in the room, a first for me.
"This? It's called a Fez"
"Oh, wonderful, I know what it's called. Now I totally know what it is, don't I, teach?" I stop staring at the thing, the fez, just long enough to look at his face. I'm surprised me calling him teach isn't getting on his nerves.
He chukles. "Well, this class isn't gonna be boring. It comes from Saddle Arabia, I was off having an adventure there, helped a guy out, and he gave me this"
"So why do you wear it?" Is that guy and him... I mentally gesture.
"I wear a fez now. Fezzes are cool. As for that guy, Vinyl, he was a complete stranger"
I think he knows what I'm doing. Time to find out.
"So you gotta home life, Edit?"
He takes me using his first name in stride, as if students hit on him all the time, although he seems slightly off balance.
"No, Ms. Scratch, I do not"
He's almost visibly sweating. As if calling me Ms. Vinyl would have an effect. I get up from my desk, and walk towards him, over exaggerating my hip sway. "Well, you gotta get that fixed, don't you, Mr. Tracks?" I say softly as I siddle up to him.
The door bangs open. "Hey, am I late?" Says a male voice.
I take a few backwards steps, and turn around. I can hear Edit Tracks sigh in relief. Standing in front of me is an average stallion. Nothing unique. "No, your a little early, in fact" I say a little iritated
He looks at me, mouth wide open in shock and surprise. "No way"
"What?"
"Is it really you?"
"Who?"
"Are you the DJ pon3?"
Time to fuck with his head a little. "Nope. That's my sister"
"Woah, what's that like?" I can hear bits of a surfer dude accent creeping into his voice.
"Fucking with you. Yeah it's me"
"For you, anytime" it takes me a little while to get what he's saying, but I eventually do. And Edit Tracks reaches the same conclusion at the same time as me, but he laughs.
I turn around. "Aw, shut the hell up. As for you" I turn to the stallion "no. Just no" I turn around to sit in my seat, but I catch Edit's expression, which is priceless. I'm still laughing as I slip my headphones over my ears, shut my eyes, and wait for class to start. I can just hear the stallion tellin one of his friends about me. I just grin with my eyes closed.
I hear the class around me fill in, but I keep my eyes shut, even as I hear whispers about a certain DJ pon3 sweep the classroom. So who is this DJ pon3 that everyone's so hyped about? I ask myself.
"Alright, everypony, class is starting. Roll Call" Edit Tracks announces.
I slip off my headphones, even though they're not playing, and open my eyes.
"Musical Masterpeice?"
"Here" A green mare says.
"Technical Audio?"
"Right here" says a red colt.
"Visual Audio?"
"in da howse!" Shouts a purple colt.
"Lone Pone? Did I pronounce that right?"
"Nuh uh" says a black stallion. "You pronounced it loney pony. It's loan pown. Oh, and here"
"I see there's another smart ass in the room" I say to Lone Pone.
"You have no clue" He replies with a wide grin.
"Metal Flare?" The teacher continues.
The classroom is silent.
"Metal Flare?" He asks again.
"Wub? I mean, what?" Says a bright red stallion.
Edit Tracks rolls his eyes. "Harmonic Synth?"
The stallion that walked in first replies.
"Rebel Bass?"
The classroom is silent. Eventually, a kid quietly says "Sir, I've found the Rebel Bass"
"So your Rebel Bass?" Edit Tracks asks.
"Yeah. You could call me that"
"Fucking kids" Edit tracks says in an undertone.
"And last but not least" he seems to blush, just a little "Vinyl Scratch"
"I'm not here"
"Well hahaha, Vinyl. So" he looks at all eight of us "small class. You all know the basics of using single instrument track line editors?"
We all respond in a positive way.
"Good. For the first day of class, I've always tried to judge how talented my students are. Since I'm no fan of tests, what I do is just let you have free reign over the first class period to create a song, or at least a simple beat. You must use one of the computers provided, since we're all using the same program, but you can use your personal computer to create tracks. You have two hours. Go!"
I sit down I front of a computer, and go to the program I need. Frootyloops. What an interesting name. I've never flat out made my own song, the most creative I been is doing remixes. The software is like what I use at home, just slightly out of date.
I add some drums, cymbals, and high hats, and just build the song from there. Before I know it, I'm done, and so is class.
"Alright, everypony, leave your computers on, save the song to the desktop of the computer, give it your name, and your free to go"
I do as he says, and I'm the first one out the door. If I walk fast, maybe I can stop at the dorm and grab a snack. And some pop.
I'm walking down the hall way when it hits me, the blackouts I've had. I can feel myself shake a little, then stumble, and then just hit the ground hard. I grit my teeth, and wait for it to pass.
It eventually does, and I go about my day as if nothing happened.