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An Idea1,020 words
The Needle Drop1,298 words
Preparations1,027 words
Decisions1,139 words
Night Mare Night1,398 words
Spin Records2,003 words
Las Pegasus2,041 words
Baltimare1,284 words
Four Years Later1,780 words

Decisions

Author's Note:

They chose the first beat.

They named themselves P-Unit, which consists of DJ PON-3, Z, and The Pink Menace.

Vinyl's verse: 0:16-1:02
Zecora's verse: 1:18-2:04
Pinkie's verse: 2:22-3:04

"I just thought of something," Vinyl Scratch said.

"What?" Pinkie Pie looked up.

"We don't even have a name for our group," Vinyl pointed out.

"Oh, I never really thought about it," Pinkie laughed.

"For us to gain fame, we must give ourselves a name," Zecora said.

"Another decision we still have to make is the beat we're going to use at the Night Mare Night celebration," Pinkie reminded her friends.

"Hey, what about Ponies With Attitudes?" Vinyl suggested.

"That's an option," Pinkie smiled.

"Maybe Insane Mare Posse?" Zecora chuckled.

"That could work," Vinyl nodded.

"Oh, I got it. You ready?" Pinkie giggled.

"What?" Vinyl raised an eyebrow. Zecora sat silently, waiting for an answer.

"We're the Illogical Mathematical Hypothetical Numerical Lyrical Crew," Pinkie laughed.

"That's ridiculous. Why would anypony call themselves that?" Vinyl couldn't help laughed.

Zecora shook her head, but smiled as well.

"What about P-Unit? P for Pony," Vinyl thought aloud.

"What else would it stand for?" Pinkie asked.

"Look, do you wanna keep this E rating or not?" Vinyl gestured upward for some reason.

"Oh, yeah, that's right," Pinkie laughed.

"Naughty By Nature?" Vinyl thought.

"You and I both know that name's already taken," Pinkie scowled.

"I know, but I like it though," Vinyl sighed.

"P-Unit will work," Pinkie said.

"Okay, I'm fine with that," Vinyl agreed.

"Agreed, now a beat is all we need," Zecora said.

The three mares unanimously agreed to call their trio P-Unit.

"Shouldn't we have individual names too?" Pinkie asked.

"Yeah, I'm DJ PON-3, I'm already known in this business 'cause I produce for other artists," Vinyl replied.

"I'll call myself The Pink Menace," Pinkie giggled.

"I like it. Zecora, what about you? What's your rap name going to be?" Vinyl asked her.

Zecora though for a moment, "I'll stick with Z since it rhymes with PON-3, it's more convenient."

"Fair enough. A lot of words rhyme with Menace, so we'll be fine," Pinkie smiled.

"Okay, glad we got that taken care of. Now the three beats I showed y'all a couple days ago, we need to pick one," Vinyl said.

"No need to panic, I said I'd go with either one, don't be so manic," Zecora retorted.

"I guess we can roll with that first one since Vinyl liked it so much," Pinkie replied.

"I'm glad we finally came to an agreement on that. Now we have a group name, individual names, and a set beat. We should probably practice with it so we can be 100% prepared on Wednesday," Vinyl was jumping for joy.

Her friends smiled and nodded, prepared to freestyle to it again. It appeared Vinyl was going to use a completely different verse than the one she had spit to it before. She once again volunteered to go first. Zecora and Pinkie decided to keep it in the same order.

Vinyl replayed the instrumental, being sure to turn the bass up to the maximum level. This was the result:

Vinyl Scratch rapped the first verse, which sounded like this:
Attention, the beat's been selected.
Nothing's protected, I come undetected.
I'm infected, like The Walking Dead, it's just a dead end.
Hearing all this mumble rap really does my head in.
Coming through with my friends and we setting new trends.
Tartarus bent on success, can't suppress this progress.
Hard pressed to feel stress from these threats.
Taking all bets, cashing these checks, I'm too complex.
Ain't got no regrets, Pinkie sense too immense, too intense.
Plenty of pens to dispense rhymes, P-Unit on the grind.
Don't worry, we'll be fine, we do this all the time.
Call me Rick Grimes, anger coincides.
I'm mad as buck like my son has died.
Been a fun ride, but I think I'll go inside.
Not satisfied, beat dropped again, run and hide.
Spitting verbal homicide, provide internal rhymes this time.
Crunching numbers while I'm cracking thunder.
Really makes me wonder why I haven't massacred.
Clearly, he hasn't heard of what I've done.
Better run while I'm still here joking.
When I swing, every bone will be broken.
PON-3 has spoken.

The beat slowed down a little and Zecora was preparing herself for her verse. When the beat dropped again, she started rapping the second verse and it sounded like this:
Zecora got more for ya dude, but ya knew this.
You ain't got a clue who my crew is.
Rue the day that you got in my way.
In the cut now and I'm ready to play.
Pray to PC that I don't put bodies on layaway.
In the grave, six feet deep, go to sleep.
Better not hear a Lil Peep, okay that shot was cheap.
Keep playing with me, it's your soul I shall reap.
Permanent sheep, admit defeat or I'll control alt delete.
You'll cease to exist, you're finished, kid, nopony witnessed.
Please stay the buck off my hit list, Zecora the Zebra is vicious.
Back at it, verbal murder, it's a bad habit.
Run the show like Angel Rabbit, left this instrumental in a casket.
Don't get sentimental, please, I'm asking.
When I get away, ain't nopony catching.
I'm attacking, magic blasting, bodies stacking.
Coming at ya fast like "What's cracking?"
When you come to face me, fool, you better come packing.
It's a fact, I'll come back and we'll do it like that.

The beat slowed down again, giving Pinkie Pie some more time to think of how she was going to finish this song. The beat dropped again and this is what she decided to do:

The Pink Menace is relentless.
Coming in swinging for the fences.
My wit is endless, I'm leaving you breathless.
I couldn't care less if you're blameless.
Mess with me, you will die nameless.
If you step to me, show some respect to me.
Or else I'll be dissecting you, this is my sector, fool.
I'll face your whole crew, my name is Pinkie Pie.
That's what I do, now you know my point of view.
I got issues, some loose screws, but that's old news.
I deduce these deuce stains as Mary Sues.
Verbal abuse when I step in the booth.
I cruise easy, but I'll blow a fuse.
Here, let me introduce to this noose.
Mess with PP, then you're destined to lose.
No excuse, just tryna kick it like Bruce.
Please cower, I don't wanna misuse my power.
Truth will knock you down like the twin towers.
Consider this verse a hearse and flowers for my doubters.
I'm too bitter, you don't want no close encounters.
I'll expose these herds of cowards
Turn 'em inside outwards, time is burning faster.
Back up in my element of Laughter.