//------------------------------// // The Gambler // Story: The Man in Black // by Eagle //------------------------------// Well, the clothes Rarity made for him did make him look a good deal better; she’d even been kind enough to make them for free. He’d also washed up a good deal, gotten a fine haircut, and shaved his face clean. All in all, he looked rather professional, which was what he wanted. The building he’d been directed to looked rather simple. It wasn’t a recording studio like he had expected, rather it looked the same as all the other houses; two-story, wooden, cozy. He checked the paper he held in his hand, making sure the address was correct, and decided to knock on the door. “Coming!” a voice inside, what sounded like that grey pony from before, answered. “Oh hello, Mr. Cash. Thank you for stopping by today. Do come in!” Johnny did that, having to duck under the small doorway. He had learned the hard way that everything here was about one size too small. But, he had gotten used to it, and the ponies had been helpful enough to make the more necessary items in his size. “Well, I wasn’t about to reject a job offer of what I’m best at,” Johnny replied. “And remember, this is the interview. Go on into the living room and have seat a on the couch; make yourself at home. I’ll be with you in a minute.” Johnny did just that, walking into the room and sitting on the couch, taking up most of it easily. Setting his guitar down, he laid back and shut his eyes, releasing a deep breath. One of his hands went over the hair on his head. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was afraid. These ponies never really had music like this before, what if they didn’t like it? He really didn’t want to miss a chance on his passion. Starting out at the bottom of the chain again felt odd. “Hey.” Johnny looked over to his side and saw Vinyl sitting there. With his brain running a mile a minute, he hadn’t even noticed the white unicorn sitting at the other end. Unlike before, her shades were off, revealing some dark red eyes, and giving off a much more friendly expression. He was a bit surprised at seeing her here, but just guessed she either had been invited to watch, or just lived here, as well. “You nervous?” she asked. “Honestly, yea; I am a little,” he admitted. “It feels weird startin’ all over again.” “Well, just play like you did at the party.” “Yea, thanks.” Octavia came back in carrying a platter with cups of tea on it, setting it down on the table. All three took one, with Johnny gulping his down in one swig. He wanted to make sure his throat was clear for this. “I hope you don’t mind coming to my house to play, but the accommodations are more comfortable than at a recording studio.” “No, I think it’s a fine place.” She tried to sit down in-between the two, barley squeezing in between them. “It’s probably more comfy when your musician doesn’t take up the entire couch, huh?” Johnny asked. “Actually, we’ve never asked anypony-or one-else to audition for us,” Octavia explained. “There just aren’t very many musicians around here.” “Really?” “Nope,” Vinyl responded. “I’m just a DJ and Tavi pays with Royal Canterlot Symphony. But around Ponyville, there’s just not much else.” “Well, I’m honored to be your first discovery,” Cash replied. It made him feel a bit better knowing that they were, more or less, new at this, too. “You can go ahead and begin playing whenever you are ready,” Octavia stated. “Alright, so that’s it? You just want me to play a couple songs?” “Yes, please. Any you like.” “Alright; lemme’ think. Hm…na. Maybe…wait, too confusing. Uh…aha! Ok, I got a couple ya’ll might like!” “Uhm…well that was very…interesting…and nice, too,” Octavia said. “But, I’m afraid I don’t-” She wasn’t able to finish, as Johnny had already started on the second song. “Whad’ya think of that?” the musician asked as he finished. “Well, I um,” Octavia was having a tough time asking about it, though Vinyl put it into perspective easily. “I don’t get it.” “Which part?” Johnny asked. “All of it, I’m afraid,” the grey earth pony explained. “What we’re you singing about, exactly?” “Cars,” Cash said. “Y’know? Like…automobiles.” “Is that one of those things you had in your worlds that we don’t have,” Vinyl asked. “Ya’ll don’t have cars here?” The two shook their heads left and right. “Damn,” he swore in his head. “Welp, I just blew it; unless I can fix it fast. Think, what’s somethin’ they might have here? C’mon, think!” “You mind if I try one more song?” he asked. “Not at all,” Octavia replied. “Thanks ma’am,” He relaxed at being given a second chance to prove himself. Still, he was thinking a bit too much; every time he thought of a song, it was immediately dismissed for some menial reason. He thought hard, trying to come up with the perfect song that didn’t exist. “Hmm, ya’ll play cards around here?” “I don’t, but Vinyl does a good deal,” she replied, a hint of anger in her voice. “Yea, I’m one of the best at it!” Vinyl claimed proudly. “I can’t remember the last time I lost any bits in a game!” “So they do gamble here, good,” John thought. “Didn’t my coltfriend beat you last week?” “Yea, but I won them back!” the DJ claimed, “and then some!” “Oh, of course,” Octavia said, rubbing a hoof on her head. “Alright, this might be easier to understand,” Cash said, hoping for the best. “That one did sound better,” Octavia complemented. “Yea, I actually understood what you were talking about,” Vinyl added. “Ok, that seems to have gone pretty smooth,” the musician thought, letting out a mental sigh of relief. “And it did seem to tell a story. It felt like his whole life revolved around cards.” “And he played the game of life like he did cards,” Cash added, “with risks; and some cheatin’ here and there.” “Fascinating,” Octavia replied. “So, you think I could do some playin’ round here?” “I do see the potential,” she replied. “But of course, the masses decide if you will be successful. Vinyl knows a good deal of places where you could perform at. We can start you off there, and then see where it goes.” “Would ya’ll really do that!?” “Sure, I’ll hook you up,” Vinyl assured him. Johnny nearly jumped to his feet in excitement. He had gotten another chance to do what he did better than anyone; play country to ordinary folks. And what’s more, it was in a land where ordinary folks had never heard of it before; though whether that was good or bad remained to be seen. He also couldn’t help but wonder if that was the reason he was here. “I can’t thank ya’ll enough!” he exclaimed, trying and failing to hold in his joy. “It’s quite alright,” the cellist said, giggling a bit at the human’s reaction and ear-to-ear smile that would give Pinkie a run for her money. “Just make sure to capitalize on it; be ready, don’t get too jittery, and…pick some songs that we can understand.” “Yes ma’am!” he said. “I’d better get goin’! I’ve got a lot of work to do!” “I’ll swing by and let you know when you’re booked,” Vinyl said as he packed his guitar and headed for the door. “I’ll be ready!” he assured them at the entrance, with Octavia giving him some final words before he bolted out. “Good luck, Johnny Cash!”