//------------------------------// // Chapter Five // Story: If Music Be The Food Of...Like? // by Mr Merritt //------------------------------// “DJ P0N3…is coming here?!” The exclamation from Peppermill had been preceded by the sound of his jaw hitting the table top at the sudden news from Applejack. The grey colt had been finishing writing his final ‘to-do’ list for the busy day he was going to have tomorrow. He would have never of guessed that what would have been deemed a ‘rustic, home-cooked’ meal could require as much planning as an elegant one. It didn’t help that Rainbow Dash would show up almost every other hour to add or change a detail or three. “Well, as ah recall she prefers to be called Vinyl Scratch when she ain’t workin’ a concert. But yeah, ah reckon she’s the one Rainbow Dash has coming here.” The apple mare had been taking a break from apple bucking to come inside the farmhouse for a drink, and had started a conversation with the busy colt. “Hrmmm…” grumbled the colt, already beginning to hear the mocking words of Snips swirl in his head. “And while she didn’t exactly say, ah reckon that she’s bringing along that Octavia gal. Ah reckon you’d lahk her sugarcube. She mighty prim and proper, jus’ lahk you. “Octavia…” The name didn’t mean a thing to the chef, but at that moment he wasn’t thinking about anything other than some vivid memories of the life he had left behind in a literal flash of flames and envy… ”I don’t care what they say. They get plenty of bits doing their invite-only concerts. You’d think they would at least be able to spare a few coins for a tip…” “She‘s in the bathroom crying…one of those divas from the concert hall really ripped into her, and all because…” “Are you bucking kidding me? This is the third time he sent this back! What’s wrong with it now?” “There are only four of them, and they want the entire banquet room for themselves? Are you sure there is enough room for them and their egos in there?” “Those aren’t even in season!” “Those aren’t even on the menu!” “Argh…I hate those snotty ponies so much!” “Peppermill? Sugarcube?” The colt in question shook himself, to find his eldest sister looking down at him with a look of concern. “Are you day dreamin’ or something? Have ya heard wut I’ve been saying to ya?” “Er…yes. I’m…I’m fine. I was just…lost in thought, that’s all.” “Well, ah hope you ain’t frettin’ about this meal yer planning. From what ah have seen this Vinyl is a decent gal. A might strange but decent.” “Strange…yeah…I bet.” murmered the colt under his breath. “Well, ah`ll leave ya to it sugarcube. And don`t let Dash getcha nervous about this whole thing. Ah reckon that girl worries too much about wut other ponies think of her sometimes.” “Well, it can…be hard to…change your opinions…sometimes.” Applejack was already to the door as the colt made this statement, which might have been a good thing if she had taken the time to notice the…ominous note in Peppermill’s voice. *** “Forget it Tavi, you aren’t going to talk yourself out of this.” “I am not trying to talk myself out of anything. I am just getting rather tired of you making decisions for me.” Inside a stylish apartment in downtown Canterlot two mares were having one of their usual discussions-slash-arguments, all the while packing their respective bags for the small trip they were going to take. “It’s free room and board Tavi. And I bet whatever Dash has cooked up is going to be killer.” “That is what worries me. I know she is your friend Vinyl, but she didn’t exactly strike me as the cooking type.” “Duh, of course she isn’t.” “Wait, what?” “Dash is a lot of cool things, but a cook ain’t one of them. She would be the type to try and get some chef friend to make something up for her, and them claim she did it herself.” “Vinyl, that’s terrible!” “Chill Tavi. I intend to rag on her till she confesses, but not before I get some good grub. I’ve never had farm food before…” “I don’t think it’s called ‘farm food’ dear.” “Whatever…either way it’s going to be sweet. It’ll be” “Maybe or maybe not. But I still want to know why you are insisting on bringing me along. I am very busy…” “Are you kidding me? Tavi, you’ve spent a solid week moping around the apartment complaining about being bored.” “It’s…it’s the slow season for quartets…” “Which makes this the perfect time to get out of the city for a bit. You can’t tell me you aren’t even a little bit excited for this? Aren’t you the one that told me how much you would have liked to check out that apple farm outside of Ponyville? The one we didn’t have time to check out because of that wedding? I’d bet my turntable that is where Dash is setting this whole thing up.” “Hmm…” “Pretty please?” “Ugh…couldn’t you at least try to show a little dignity?” “Heh…nope…” “Fine, I suppose I can’t help but dragged along into these messes…” “Was that some sort of dig at my table manners?” “I have seen you eat dear…”