The Neighanderthal

by Mr. Grimm

Pinkie Attempts To Throw A Rave

Tarpan thought about his predicament as he was led back through the settlement. With the use of their magic, Twilight and the Chieftains had given a whole new language to him. Granted, he was unable to speak it, but it would be a boon to finally understand what they were saying. Already he was listening in on his guides as they spoke to one another. Though he knew what they were saying, he didn’t exactly know what they were talking about. There were a great number of words that weren’t defined to him. The white one--Rarity, as she had called herself--spoke of things like dresses and earrings, as well as perfume and wardrobes. Tarpan had no idea what these things were.

But he had little time to ponder them, as he was now striding down the streets of the settlement. The Neighanderthal gazed at everything with wonder, his gray eyes taking in the quaintness of the town with much curiosity. In turn, the ponies that lived in the town looked at him oddly. Tarpan was well aware of this, as the Southern Folk had always found his appearance unusual. The feeling was entirely mutual.

“This place is called Ponyville.” Tarpan looked over to Twilight, who was noticing his examination of the houses and their owners. Tarpan nodded, as he had been recently taught to do when expressing agreement or showing that he understood. He suddenly caught sight of the curious place he had examined only hours earlier. Standing near its door were the two mares who had screamed at him; one, a mint-green unicorn, the other an earth pony with a pink and blue mane.

“Hey, look Bons!” called the unicorn as she pointed a hoof towards the Neighanderthal, “It’s the Big-Hoof! And he’s with the Princesses! Hey, maybe he’s like the King of the Big-Hoofs negotiating for his people!” Tarpan watched as the earth pony hid her face with a hoof. The unicorn stood up on her hind-legs and called out wildly.

“Rock on, King Big-Hoof Dude!” Tarpan was unsure as to how to respond to his. He turned to Twilight, who grinned sheepishly.

“It’s a little different here,” she said. Tarpan nodded.

Shortly afterwards they arrived at Surgarcube Corners, which had been completely de-Hearth-Warming-fied. It was a mystery to everypony as to how Pinkie managed to strip it of its decorations so quickly, but they weren’t about to question it as Pinkie was herself a mystery. The mare currently stood in front of the store with a variety of party items scattered about her person, the most prominent of which was a party-hat so tall that Twilight had to wonder how she could get through the doorway.

“Hey everypony!” the pink mare cried, “You’re here! Come on in, the party’s just about to start!” She suddenly disappeared into the bakery, her hat telescoping downward as she ran through the doorway. As she always did, Pinkie acted in such an unusual manner that it compelled the others to go along with her suggestions out of curiosity.

“Pinkie, what’s going on?” Rainbow Dash muttered as she and everypony else entered the bakery, which had become very dark due to all the windows being taped over with black paper. The only source of light came from a variety of glow-sticks that were held in the hooves of a dozen ponies that nopony present had ever seen before. Rarity thought she recognized one; a grey mare with long black hair who stood apart from the glow-stick ponies.

“Pray tell, sister,” Luna whispered to her elder sibling, “What kind of madness does the element of Laughter suffer from?” Celestia looked to Pinkie, who was bouncing about the lightless atmosphere without a single care.

“I’m not certain,” answered the solar alicorn, “But I don’t think she’s suffering.” The princess then noticed the grouping of gigantic speakers clustered in the corner surrounding a turntable, at which a white unicorn with a spiky blue mane sat sipping from a vividly green energy drink.

“Do you like it?!” Pinkie Pie blurted, simultaneously in everypony’s face, “You won’t believe the luck I had coming back here! I ran into my BFF Vinyl, and told her about the Saving-Us-From-A-Lybbarde-And-Learning-A-New-Language-Party! She thought it was totally awesome, and taught me about a new kind of party! It’s called a RAVE! She even said she’d help out with the music, and brought along her groupies to help set up! So what do you think? Do ya like it?! Huh?! Huh?!”

For a moment everypony remained silent.

“That’s…really nice, Pinkie,” Twilight said at last, “But I’m not sure if a rave is the best kind of party to throw Tarpan. I mean, he might find it a little strange…” Truthfully, there wasn’t a pony in Twilight’s group who didn’t think that raves were a little strange. Rainbow Dash felt that she might give them a chance if she figured out how to properly twirl some glow-sticks, but she too thought they were weird.

“Hey, Pinks!” called the white unicorn, “Are we gonna start this party or what?”

“Well of course we’re going to start the party!” Pinkie replied before turning back to the Elements, “C’mon guys, just give it a chance! I’ve been to one before, and they’re really fun!” Twilight looked hesitant.

“Well, I guess maybe we could--”

“HIT IT!”

Every inch of the bakery began to rhythmically shudder as Vinyl played one of her countless Dubstep Remixes.

Tarpan covered his ears as the world was suddenly filled with the most horrible, most tortuous sound he had ever known. The Neighanderthal grimaced in agony as he was bombarded by wave after wave of the mindless screeching. Never in his life had he heard such a terrible noise. The closest thing he could compare it to was the dying scream of a shriek-tooth being impaled, except that it never ended. Tarpan concluded that the source of the noise was either an animal in exceptional pain, or a predator far fiercer than anything he had ever encountered. Either way, he decided right then and there to end it. The Neighanderthal turned towards the great black boxes that emitted the noise and charged.

Twilight suddenly saw ponies flying through the air as a large shape plowed through them. She wasn’t able to think much of it as the blasting beat of the Dubstep was turning her brain into soup, but was vaguely aware of somepony screaming, and a series of large crashes. It was only after the largest of these crashes that her perception became clear again. The mare saw Tarpan breathing deeply amid a pile of demolished speakers and crackling wires. The DJ was angrily berating him, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“What the buck?!” screeched Vinyl, “Look what he did to my rig!” Pinkie suddenly appeared by her side and surveyed the damage, putting a thoughtful hoof to her chin. The speakers had been torn in half and pounded flat into the floor, while the turntable had been subjected to a kick so powerful that it shattered into pieces. In other words, Vinyl’s equipment had been totally and utterly destroyed.

“I guess he doesn’t like dubstep,” concluded Pinkie as she flipped on the lights.

“Who’s going to pay for this?!” ranted Vinyl, “That was entirely custom made!” She grabbed Tarpan by the neck and began to throttle him.

“You son of a nag! I’m going to sue you for every last…” Behind her purple shades, the unicorn’s eyes grew wide as her mouth fell open. She released the relic and jumped backwards.

“Buck!” she cried, “What the Tartarus?” This was the first instance that Vinyl looked upon Tarpan with clarity, as her vision was always somewhat obscured because she wore her sunglasses in the dark.

“Oh, that’s Tarpan!” said Pinkie, taking a seat next to the jittery DJ. Vinyl looked at the baker.

“You never told me he was a…a cave-pony thing!” sputtered the unicorn. Pinkie frowned, though only a little.

“I guess I should have been a little more specific when I said ‘old school’.”

“Old school?” cried Vinyl, “Pinks, cave-pony’s not old school. That’s the school they tore down to build the old school!”

While the two party animals were debating what was and what wasn’t old school, Twilight trotted over to Tarpan. She was trying to think of a way to convince Tarpan that what he had heard was a new kind of music and not a method of torture.

“Tarpan,” she said quietly, “Are you okay?” The Neighanderthal nodded, though he still appeared flustered by the whole situation.

“Do you want to go…?” Twilight was about suggest that they go home for the day, when she suddenly realized that Tarpan did not have a home. The mare turned and hid a nervous frown from the relic. Though it had been established that he would stay in the library’s guest room, the mentioning of ‘home’ might bring up memories of his life in the Paleozoic, which he could never return to. Twilight did not yet want to bring this up because she did not know how to tell him.

Her troubles were suddenly broken by Pinkie’s voice, which had an element of concern in it. Ponies typically paid attention to Pinkie when she was concerned, because she rarely was.

“Hey guys!” she said with a frown, “We don’t have music. We need music if we want the party to keep going!”

“Ah don’t think so, sugarcube,” Applejack said, “Ah’m pretty sure this party’s over.” Pinkie suddenly leapt in the air and gasped, something she did when she was surprised or distressed.

“Over?” she cried, “It can’t be over! It never even started!”

“Pinkie,” Celestia began softly, “As well intentioned as you may be, I think it’s best that Tarpan is allowed some time to rest now.” Though most ponies would have thought the monarch’s advice wise, Pinkie would have none of it. She began to pant heavily, and she rushed about the room opening cabinets and drawers.

“Music!” she shouted wildly, “We need music! Where did I stash my emergency supply of party music?!” Everypony in the room stared at the desperate mare sadly. They all knew of her addiction to partying, an addiction that refused to be cured. However, just as Twilight was about to administer a speech that she hoped would calm the party enthusiast down, the grey mare in the corner spoke up.

“Excuse me,” she said in a very sophisticated voice, “But I believe I may be of assistance.” A loud groan sounded off from Vinyl.

“Aw horse-apples,” muttered the sulky DJ, “Not that garbage.” The black-maned earth pony turned and shot her a look.

“I’m tired of you calling it that,” she said sternly, “And if you continue to do so, I’ll have no choice but to charge you with contempt for an officer.” Vinyl’s grudging sneer became a fearful grimace.

“You wouldn’t,” she said, her voice cracking.

“I would,” smirked the earth pony as she raised an eyebrow. The white unicorn sighed exasperatedly, but became quiet. Rarity, however, began to talk. She trotted over to the violet-eyed mare, her face donning a look of recognition.

“I remember you,” she said, “You’re first-chair cellist for the Canterlot Symphony. Octavia, wasn’t it?” The violet-eyed mare nodded.

“Precisely,” she confirmed.

“Cellist?” cried Pinkie Pie, sounding very relieved, “That’s wonderful! I didn’t know a parole officer could be a cellist! Could you play for our party? Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with whipped cream and a cherry on top? Pleeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaasssssssssssssseeeee---”

“I apologize, but I don’t have my instrument with me,” replied Octavia as she trotted back to the corner and retrieved a small phonograph, “I did, however, bring this.” The earth pony set it on a table and opened a drawer in the bottom of the machine, revealing several records. The mare pulled one out and placed it on the turntable. Moments later, a beautiful waltz began to fill the room. It was strong and loud, but at the same time held a graceful, almost dream-like quality to it. It was so powerful that everypony present became silent.

Twilight looked over at Tarpan, eager to see his reaction to some of the best music she’d ever heard. Upon seeing the Neighanderthal’s face, her mouth dropped open. The look he held was one of absolute astonishment, holding actual emotion as opposed to the usual stony indifference. The purple mare couldn’t imagine what he was experiencing, as he was hearing something unlike anything he’d ever heard before.

Tarpan didn’t know what to think. He was hearing something…beautiful. It was a song, for songs were not unknown to his kind. But it was a song that was not made by voices. He didn’t know what made such wondrous sounds. To him it were as though he were listening to a song sung by a sunrise or the clouds, something magnificent that never made any noise. It was so different from the sounds of the natural world, yet seemed to capture the same elements. Even in his own language, Tarpan doubted he would have been able to accurately describe the music, or its beauty. He closed his eyes as a single tear rolled down his cheek.

Comments

[Dirty Bit]

You can't beat the classics.

Fun Fact: The artist in the link is the same man who composed the famous 'Sabre Dance'

[Captain Lunar]

Ugga ugga. Me like story. Me want more!!

[Richforce]

nice job

[Jaohni]

Fun fact: did you know that music is subjective? Not only that, but that a sense of what sounds good in music, what sounds sad, what sounds happy, and what sound mad are all based on what a person hears when they are growing up? While we might be able to detect the emotion behind a piece of music from a different culture we don't get enjoyment out of it unless we listen to it as we grow up. Also, we have to expect to hear emotion out of something for it to contain any. For example, I could walk around playing guitar in my school, but not a single person will be moved by it if they don't expect to be.

In other words, you'd better choose yours very carefully.

[Swashbucklist]

So apparently Twilight actually did have her closest and youngest companion stay shut up in the library, away from social interaction, while she ran off to do something fun with the rest of their friends. Then Rainbow Dash showed a disturbing level of flippancy when her young pal was almost beaten to death by a hairy, smelly brute, and there still exists a shadow of a doubt that Tarpan is fully convinced that murdering him is off limits, which no one cares to address even after the language spell is in place (and considering the violent tragedy that nearly occurred, it should've been the first thing Twilight explained to Tarpan). And Pinkie threw, not one, but TWO big parties without inviting Spike.

I gave it a chance after the first chapter, and although Derpy's role in the story and Vinyl's “old school” line made me crack up pretty good, I just can't stand the idea of Spike's alleged friends treating him like a background character in their own lives, as if his friendship is optional and his happiness, safety, and sense of security are inconsequential statistics.

[JBL]

2669334 Well said.