Vinyl Scratch collapsed on the ground in the alleyway beside her apartment. Her attackers, four identical white unicorn stallions, all wearing black suits that obscured their cutie marks and dark sunglasses, gathered around her.
“What?” panted Vinyl, “You need four guys just to subdue little old me? What did I do to deserve this?” Vinyl spat a broken tooth from her mouth.
“We represent a group highly invested in the cultural well-being of Canterlot. They have deemed that your ‘music’ is not in line with the cultured and refined image of this great city. Thus, we have been tasked with getting rid of you before you become a problem,” said one of the white stallions.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Vinyl couldn’t help but choke out a short laugh.
“What, you guys are like Canterlot’s mafia? Oh Celestia, that’s hilarious!” Vinyl buckled over herself, laughing until she was stopped by a front hoof slamming into her side.
“No pony is coming to help you. Give up now, and your demise shall be relatively painless,” said the same stallion as before.
Vinyl gave another short chuckle. “You guys seem to think getting rid of me will solve the ‘problem’,” said Vinyl, making air quotes with her front hooves, “And sure, for a while, it might. But sooner or later, somepony is going to pick up where I left off. Ponies are going to experiment with music the same way they experiment with chemicals, or magic.”
Another white hoof slammed into Vinyl’s side, driving the air from her.
“You know,” said Vinyl coughing as she regained her breath, “Kicking ponies isn’t really a good way to get them to do what you want. Sure, you guys can kill me now. But to a lot of ponies out there, beyond Canterlot’s walls, I’m not just a musician. I’m not just a DJ. I’m an innovator. I’m an inspiriation. I’ve shown ponies that music can be anything, that they don’t have to stick with the same chords and notes as what they learn in school. Heck, to some, I pretty much am wubstep. I taught them musical freedom. And that, guys, is why killing me won’t change anything.” Vinyl Scratch finished her little speech, and looked up at her tormentors.
“You never shut up, do you?” said the stallion, and brought his hoof up to slam down on Vinyl’s head.
“Nope,” said Vinyl, “Viva la revolution de musica.”
The hoof smashed down.