Of Wubs and Men

by MoltenXKid


Lunch, Birthday, and a Dinner

(Viny’s POV)

I’m starting to think Mason believes my plans for revenge have stopped. Well, he’s sadly mistaken. At this point, I’m just doing it for fun. After buying him a male stripper, sending a fake pregnancy letter in the mail, and hiring clowns (which he is afraid of), I think he deserved a more relaxing punishment. Plus, he still seemed on edge about me telling off his producer. He calmed down since then, but you don’t want to poke a sleeping dragon.

Before I set my plan in motion, I needed to go see the other actor in my play of revenge. She was playing a major role, and the best part was that she didn’t even know. I set up a meeting place for us to discuss. Good thing Mason let me use his phone-thing. The only problem was getting there. Luckily, Mason just happened to be leaving for a job he had been hired for. He was helping so much in his own demise.

“Mom, Dad-I’m leaving,” Mason said as he came from the guest room where his parents were staying, “Alright Vinyl, ready to go?”

I simply nodded as I grabbed my one-strap backpack. We headed for the front door and had to manually lock it since Tesla was still updating. (The housing system was only 40% done.) We both got into his car; he started it, and pulled out the driveway. After a couple moments of driving, his radio connected to his phone through something he called Bluetooth. The music played as we rocked our heads, but Mason turned it to a low volume, so he could speak.

“You’ve been here for about three week, and most of that time, you’ve been around me.” Mason spoke, his eyes never leaving the road, “Who else could you possibly know enough to have lunch with?”

“I have other friends besides you.” I responded, “Plus, who says I stay in at night when you’re asleep?”

“Fair enough, pony. Fair enough.”

We continued driving down the long, traffic filled roads. During this, I took the chance to look over Mason. He wasn’t a half bad looking stallion. Mane a tad bit too curly, but nothing too bad. I did notice the way he dressed. Nothing was wrong with it, but it never changed- t-shirt and cargo shorts. It’s like that was all in his closet. Not even a polo or button down shirt. Even I kept a spare dress around just in case.

“Mason, what size shirt and pants do you wear?” I asked.

“Large shirt, thirty-three- thirty-six pants.” He responded, not even giving the question a second thought, “Though, I have been exercising…”

“You exercised, but then ate half of pizza as a reward. It was canceled out.”

Minutes later, we arrived at the café. Mason for fifty bucks to pay for food, but I had other plans in mind. We said our goodbyes, and he left. With him out of sight, I hesitantly sat down at a table. It was the first time I was alone in L.A. I was expecting weird stares, but no one seemed to care about my presence. Soon, the waiter came along; I told him I was waiting for someone. I did look over the menu, yet they had no vegetarian options. I wasn’t hungry anyway. I was just waiting for my guest to appear. Oh, and she did.

“Hello, Anastasia. I have been waiting for you!” I said, “Please, take a seat. We have much to discuss.”


(Mason’s POV)

I parked my car in front of some huge mansion, grabbed my laptop, and walked towards the front door. Above it said, “Happy Birthday, Isaac.” I promised myself I would never do birthdays, but this family was paying too well for me to say no. Luckily, I could drown myself in the free refreshments at the party.

Before I knocked on the door, a butler opened it for me. He guided me to the main room, where I immediately regretted taking this job. Before me was a plethora of hipster teens. They wore skinny jeans, or whatever other weird fashion choices kids did at the time. When the Butler announced my presence, they stayed calm. Usually, I received a hand clap or-more recently-small, polite smiles. Soon, they returned to their conversations and forgot about me.

I sighed before walking over to the speaker system provided. It was a good setup. A bit simplistic, but good. With a simple plug in of the auxiliary cable, the room was being pumped with music. I watched as the kids did some new dance I was unfamiliar with. (They looked like idiots) The butler would bring me refreshments, and every so often I would check the music or play a request.

After a while, I began drowning in my thoughts and not the drinks. Had I, or rather, electronic music become so out of date, that hipsters listened to it? Was I that old that I didn’t understand half the dances or words the kids were saying? Come on, I was barely twenty-seven. How could I have become so out of touch?

“Uh…Mr. Helix…” said a shy girl in a shocked tone.

“Just call me Mason, kid.” I responded, jumping out of my thoughts. I got up from my post near the speakers, and guided her to a quieter area. The music played automatically, so there was really no need for me. “What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you could sign this photo…maybe answer some questions.”

I think at that moment, I was more shocked than she was. For the past couple of years, my career slowly descended, so did the fans. I hadn’t been asked for an autograph in…I can’t even remember. I thought I was just a speck of dust in the wind. But, this kid, she made me feel a tad bit special again. She reminded me of the better times.

I grabbed a pen and signed my name-a little too quickly- on an unbecoming photo of me back at my first show. The girl seemed elated as she carefully slid the photo into a protective sleeve. I offered to take a picture with her, which made the kid even happier. Thanks to butler, the photo wasn’t an awkwardly angled selfie. With those things out of the way, the questions began.

“So when’s your next album coming out?” She asked, eager for a good answer.

“…Well…” before I finished she fired another question.

“I hear you’re working with a new artist. Is she going to be on the album?”

“Funny story. She grabbed the phone…wait…how did you hear about?”

“It’s all over your producer’s social media accounts. ‘DJ Helix: Return from the Darkness?’ It’s gaining some speed.” She explained, “So about that new album…”

I was stuck in my thoughts for a moment before answering, “Uh…You’ll just have to wait for the album.” It was an answer I gave when I just didn’t know what to say or do anymore. It seemed like my producer was happy about me working with Vinyl. The world seemed sort of happy about a return that may or may not happen. Things seemed to be looking up.

About an hour later, the party died, so I began to pack my stuff. The payment credits were transferred into my account, and I received a piece of birthday cake. (SCORE!) I started to head for my car, yet before I left, I couldn’t help but speak to that girl again.

“Hey…uh…what’s your email?” I asked.

“Why?” She asked in return. She seemed a weary giving that information.

“Well, I thought a fan would want to know about a spectacular showdown I’m participating in.”

“Really? A DJ battle! Where?”

“The club Genesis in downtown L.A. All the details aren’t worked out yet, but it is happening.” I told, “If I’m correct, you’re the first person outside a small circle that knows.”

After that, I’m pretty sure that girl nearly fainted. Without delay, she gave me her name- Amelia- and email. I wrote them down onto a napkin and put it into my pocket. After saying our goodbyes and promising to contact my “biggest fan”, I climbed into my car and drove home.


(Vinyl POV)

“Hey, Vinyl…uh…” Anastasia started to speak, “What made you invite me to lunch?”

“Can’t two friends just talk n such?” I replied.

“Friends, huh?” Anastasia relaxed as she ordered two light beers, “Alright, then.”

For the next half hour, we made small talk and also finalized the preparations for the DJ battle. She’s a nice girl…though she can be an asshole, only when it’s for the enjoyment of everyone. She kept herself hidden; only letting small glimpses of her full personality out around me. I guess were still weren’t on the best of friend levels.

The longer we talked, the more I realized that this girl was essentially, a female version of Mason. Of course, she was her own person, but I saw pieces of one in the other. It probably strings from their childhood together. I wonder if they realized it. Probably not. They were both too blind to see.

We continued to talk, and I tried to bring Mason into the conversation, but it seemed like an area she didn’t want to go to. She would quickly change the subject to something else-usually about me or Equestria. She seemed fairly interested in my home-the music, clubs, food, fashion, politics, etc. So, to gain some ground, I answered her questions as best as I could. Soon, the conversation moved fully towards the battle.

“Let me see, so a separate station for each DJ, programmed LED lighting to go along with the beat, subwoofers placed along the inside and outside of the club, advertisements, and free drinks for performers.” Ana repeated, going over a list she wrote, “…and you want this done in two weeks?”

“Don’t forget the fire dancers and explosions.” I stated, taking off my glasses. She stared into my eyes for awhile before returning o the preparations.

“Uh…I think that’s a safety hazard, but I’ll see if I can make everything else happen. Truth is: my club needs some excitement; things have been slow, so let’s make this one hell of a night!”

“I can drink to that!” Both Ana and I lifted our bottles and tapped them together.

“So, do ya’ have any pals coming? I can reserve them some VIP seats if ya want. Probably send them an invitation.”

I looked down at my drink. I didn’t know anybody else in this land that was from back home. I’m pretty sure they came, but who exactly was…a shot in the dark.
Anastasia seemed to take notice of my appearance and didn’t push any further. We finished our bottles in comfortable silence, and decided to leave before anything got awkward. Though, I didn’t complete everything I wanted to today.

“I don’t know how to say this, but I know a guy who’d love to invest in your club.” I spoke, almost out of the blue.

“Hmm… things are decent now, but I’d meet him anyway.” She responded.

“Cool, tonight at the Gordano’s Corner. He’ll be there. Tell them ‘The party of Vinyl’.”

“Gordano’s corner…A bit too fancy for my blood, but alright.”

With that, we both split our ways. Luckily, Anastasia paid for my taxi home. (I really should get a job…or ask Mason for an allowance.) Though, before I headed home, I made a quick stop by a male clothing store. I needed to buy a large button down shirt and a pair of thirty-three to thirty- six pants.


(Mason POV)

We’re going to interrupt the wubs for one second to tell you all some news from the world. How many of you have helpmates? I bet of whole bunch of you, right? Now, how many of you have married your helpmate? Yeah, I said marry! In Oklahoma, a group of humans with their pon-

I turned off the radio. I wasn’t listening to it anyway. Something about marriage. People could do whatever they wanted as long as they are happy. Plus, the whole marriage thing probably had nothing to do with me anyway, so it wasn’t my business.

I pulled into my driveway. It had been an interesting day, but it was finally over. Well, until Vinyl rushed outside, pulled me in, and hastily undressed me. I was shocked, thinking it was another “heat” relapse, but it proved otherwise. She was speaking, yet her words were slurred together. I barely caught some phrases: “Big gig”, “Lots of money”, “Put these on”, “You’re kinda getting pudgy”, “Meeting at Gordano’s corner”, and “Party of Vinyl”.

“Wait, Gordano’s Corner? That’s a bit too fancy for my blood.”

“Just go!” Vinyl rushed as she picked my hair and pushed me to the car., “And don’t fuck it up.”

Barely knowledgeable, I climbed back into my vehicle. I didn’t know what was going on, but the words “gig” and “money” sounded nice. Like I said before, purchasing Vinyl put a decent dent in my finances. With a quick search on my GPS, I was off to a fancy restaurant in L.A. Completely unknown to a person like me who doesn’t exactly go for the finer things in life.

I drove. Jus drove to my destination. In some fancy clothes Vinyl gave me. She didn’t take off the price tag, which they both conveniently added up to around fifty bucks. Did Vinyl buy these for me? I must say: they did fit rather nicely. My thoughts came to an end once I pulled to the front of the restaurant.

“Hello, sir. May I take your car?” asked the valet.

“Uh… sure… but don’t scratch her. The clutch is sticky so be careful!” I warned as I got out, “If you turn on the radio, only play EDM…she likes that.”

“I’ll put the utmost care into it, sir.”

I watch my baby disappear behind the building; it kind of hurt to see someone else driving her. I walked away with a heavy sigh and entered the building. I arrived to a guy dressed in a tux. He was waiting at the front stand for customers. He seemed overly pretentious and probably had a French accent.

“How may I help you, sir?” He asked…no French accent.

“I’m here for a meeting…”

“Name and Party?”

“Mason Williams…uh, Party Of Vinyl.”

“Right this way, sir.”

I was guided to a lone table, off in a secluded corner of the restaurant. There, at the table, was a beautiful woman. Her head was down, eyeing at her drink. She didn’t seem to notice me yet, so I looked her over. She wore a blue dress that stopped above her knees. It wasn’t tight, but was fitted to her body. Her brown hair was flowing down her back, yet came back up with a slight curl. Her light brown skin glowed in the light. It all seemed to be too perfect. Maybe it was the lighting, maybe it was something the air. Nevertheless, the woman was stunning.

“Introducing Mr. Mason Williams.” said my guide as we stopped in front of the woman.

Immediately, her head shoot up. She wore a face of surprise that I had seen so many times before.

“Mason?!”

“Anastasia?!”