Chapter 1: R&B and Hip-Hop Don't Mix

"Yo, what the competition look like, homie?"

"Hang on, I'm about to see now."

A light-brown stallion with zebra stripes poked his head outside of the curtain, making sure he wasn't spotted by the judges. He looked at the performers that was on the stage - "Deja," they called themselves. Two earth stallions and a unicorn mare - none of them he recognized - were setting up their microphones on the stage.

More singers, huh? Swing thought as he pulled his head back. This should be an easy win after all. He trotted back to his partner, who was waiting anxiously. Swing smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

"We just might have this one in the bag, Redhead," he said. "We got some more popcorn singers up on the stage."

"Again, Swing? I swear to Celestia if I hear another rendition of 'Filly,' I'm gonna wind up strangling somepony!"

Swing couldn't help but chuckle at his friend's reaction. The grand prize for the talent show winners was ten thousand bits and a recording contract, so it came as no surprise that many wannabe pop singers came to Marehattan's Applello Theater and tried out for the contest. Redhead and Swing were one of the only three hip-hop acts in the show, and the only ones to make it to the last round. The normally calm Redhead was slowly going insane from the seemingly endless covers of Griffon Feeble, Lady WahWah, Queasy, and, worst of all, Kanye Quest. Swing had loaned him his MP3 player to help block out the sounds, but it didn't do much.

"Well, it can't be as bad as that 'Marei Vanilli' group that got kicked out during the semi-finals," Swing pointed out.

"They don't count," the carrot-topped pegasi responded. "It's one thing to suck at singing. It's a whole 'nother low to try and deceive everyone by lip-syncing to a song."

Which was true.The crowd pelted Marei Vanilli with garbage when the judges found out they were lip-synching their performances. Swing couldn't help but feel bad for them, but he had to admit, they got off easier than most ponies who tried doing that.

Swing merely shrugged. "Well, at least they didn't get shot doing it. Marehattan crowds are notorious for doing that to crappy acts."

As they were talking, Deja's song started playing through the speakers. The two stallions headed over to the right entrance to the stage to get a look at the group.

"So that's 'Deja,' huh?" Redhead said. "Well, at least their style is different."

As the song's intro continued, one of the earth ponies stepped up to the front of the stage. His body was a dark blue, and his mane a goldish-brown. As the song began transitioning into the verse, he started to sing:

I remember the very first time
You the picture of love in my heart
You and me, mare, holding hooves
Please be my filly, won’t you understand?
(I need a marefriend) I need a marefriend
And I need her right now
Loving, kissing, holding you tight
Never letting go

(I need a marefriend) I need a marefriend
And I need her right now

Can I call you, would that be all right
Maybe Friday or Saturday night
Mare, I think of you all the time
‘Cause it’s you that I need, mare, and you’re always on my mind

(I need a marefriend)
And I need you right now
Loving, kissing. holding you tight
Never letting go

(I need a marefriend) I need a marefriend
And I need you right now
Loving, kissing, holding you tight
And keeping you warm, oh, yeah...

As the song continued, the two stallions backstage couldn't help but sway their heads to the song.

"I'd be lying if I said this song wasn't corny," Redhead said during the bridge. "But they can sing real damn good!"

"And you ain't lying there, brother. They're waaayyyyy better than those Griffon Feeble wannabes that were on earlier." Swing scratched his chin. "Hell, I think we might actually have some stiff competition for the first time tonight."

Redhead shot him a look. "Don't say that, Swing. Every time somepony says that they have 'stiff competition', they always loose."

"Awww, that's just an ol' mare's tale! When have you actually heard of anyone loosing because of them saying that?"

"Well... to be honest, never, but--"

"There ya go, then!" Swing wrapped his foreleg around Redhead's shoulder. "Ain't nothing gonna happen unless we let it happen. And while these ponies are definitely good, there's no way we're gonna let them win."

Redhead looked Swing in the eye. He knew that Swing could be somewhat foolhardy at times, but the determination he had in his eyes showed that he was in it for all or nothing.

He looked back at the group, who were still singing. They seemed to have everything most of the others didn't. Poise, professionalism, proper stage presence, and most importantly, talent. It was somewhat intimidating to him, having faced mostly mediocre competitors. But he knew Swing was right. Nothing was gonna happen unless they let it happen.

"You're right, Swing," Redhead finally said, a smile forming on his lips. "We're gonna be takin' those bits home with us."

"And a recording contract under our belts too," Swing added.

Deja's song came to an end, followed by a healthy round of applause. The stallions moved away from the stage entrance to let the group through.

"You ponies were dope out there!" Swing said as they passed by.

You think so?" the dark-blue stallion said, surprised. "I really didn't think I was at my best out there."

"Are you crazy? You were awesome out there!"

"I'm glad you think so, mate," The male backup singer said. "I was scared we were gonna get pelted with trash like that other group that was on earlier."

Redhead stifled a laugh. "I don't see why'd they mess with you. You're probably as tall as they come."

The backup singer laughed nervously."Well, to be fair, this is the Applello. Size doesn't mean anything if they can shoot you down."

Swing looked at him. He looked about six feet tall, and was almost completely black, save for his short mane, which had gold highlights, and he had red eyes to boot. Swing couldn't imagine anyone even thinking about trying to pull anything on him, even with a gun.

at that point, the mare of the group, who had been busy gulping down cups of fruit punch form the refreshment table, came over.

"Hey there, my little ponies!" she said with a laugh. "Are any of you interested in some punch?" At this, her partners groaned.

"C'mon, Janet! I thought we told you to stop saying that!" the black stallion whined.

Janet let out another playful laugh. "Well, it's true. Compared to me, you two are little ponies."

"By what, two years?" the blue stallion responded. "Just because you're able to drink liquor, doesn't make you any more mature."

"I disagree. I don't drink liquor constantly. And, unlike some ponies I know, I can hold mine in."

At that statement, it was hard not to laugh at the blue stallion: His face had turned purple from the blood rushing to his face, and he had a strange look of embarrassment on his face.
Redhead and Swing stood there struggling to keep their composure, while the black stallion simply broke out laughing at his friend's unfortunate roasting.

Just then, a stage attendant trotted up to them with a clipboard. "Which one of you are 'Colt 'N Play?'" the attendant asked.

"That's us," Swing said, gesturing to himself and Redhead.

"Well, you two are up next after the emcee is done. Is your backing track ready?"

"Yeah, we already gave it to the DJ."

"Alright then, get ready." the attendant walked away. Swing looked at Redhead.

"You ready?" he asked.

"I was born ready," he replied.

Swing smirked. "Well then, let's go!" he turned his head to the singing group. "See you ponies in the winner's circle."

"Likewise," the dark-blue stallion replied as the duo trotted towards the stage.

"Is everyone ready for our final act of the night?!" The emcee, a tall, black colored pegasi, bellowed into the microphone.

The crowed roared their approval.

"All right then!" he shouted enthusiastically. "And we've saved the best for last! Locally grown in the Brox neighborhood of Marehattan, New Yoke, please give it up for the dynamic duo of Colt 'N Play!"

The crowd cheered wildly as the stallions ran onstage.

"Are y'all ready to tear the roof off this place?!" Redhead shouted through his microphone.

The crowd gave a resounding "Hay yeah!"

"I can't hear you! I said are you ready to tear the roof offa this sucker?!"

"HAY YEAH!!"

"Now that's what I wanna hear!" he said enthusiastically. "Yo, Colt, you ready brother?"

"You know it, Play!" Swing responded. "Yo DJ! Kick it!"

Almost as soon as the song started playing through the speakers, the crowd erupted in cheers.

"Yo, Colt!" Redhead shouted. "You wanna start this one off?"

"Don't mind if I do, homie!" Swing shouted back. "Here we go..."

(Colt)
The time has come to enjoy myself,
I've left my problems up on the shelf.
The work days over and I've got it made,
Like Johnny Hemp said I just got paid;
And I'm ready to mingle, young stallion single and free.
Ready to get busy, down to party hardy and have a good time,
All I need is a partner in crime.
Call up the homies and hope they might,
Say they down to paint town red tonight.
Look in the closet and pull out the hype gear.
Twist up the dreadlock fade and I'm outta here.
Go to a disco or a party of some kind,
Hope that I would find myself a good time.
Before I'm through and the night is done
Yo, I'm gonna have fun.

(Chorus)
Ain't gonna hurt nopony, we just dancin' ya'll.
Ain't gonna hurt nopony, out there on the floor.
Ain't gonna hurt nopony, we just dancin' ain't we?
Ain't gonna hurt nopony, gonna give you more
Oooh yeah, yeah.

(Play)
If you lookin' for more, step on the dance floor,
Check your coat and troubles at the door.
Cause we sure you gonna see us smile today.
The problems of the world seem miles away.
The only thing that matters is a good time,
That can be had with the help of a good rhyme.
The DJ's hype, more than up to par.
Uh-oh there goes a cutie at the bar,
So I stroll on over to her and say hi,
And tell her I'm the P-L-A-Y.
And would you like to dance awhile?
I'll do anything to see your smile
See, my job is to take you higher.
After a couple of songs I'll require.
Having fun? Well I ain't done,
The best is yet to come.

As the song's bridge kicked in, the duo got on their hind legs, and started doing a dance known to most New Yokers as the "buckstep." Keeping in rhythm with the music, both stallions stared doing a running motion with their hind legs. As they continued, they kicked out their hind legs, tapping each other's hoof in the process. Still in the running motion, they slid past each other and tapped their hooves again, this time from behind. As the song's bridge started winding down, the duo returned to their normal position to finish the song:

(Colt and Play)
The music's hype and if it's alright with you,
I wouldn't mind spending the rest of the night with you.
No kidding babe we could make some noise
You and your mares, and me and my colts,
Just feelin' like a night filled with pleasure,
We could take it slow with no pressure.
Enough respect, you won't regret,
This will be a night you won't soon forget.
(Yeah) And that's a promise from me to you.
Take my hand mare, I'm gonna see you through
You don't strike me as a woman that fronts,
Here's your chance, you only live once.
I wanna hear you say, "Oh, what a blast, Colt.
We sure had good fun while it lasted."
Hang out with friends, hit the skins,
Next week we're gonna do it again!

The crowd started cheering wildly as the song ended. The stallions felt the ground beneath them shake from all the ovation. Redhead tried to shout something to Swing, but it was lost in the noise. At this point, the emcee trotted back on stage.

"Colt 'N Play, fillies and gentelcolts!" the emcee shouted into his microphone.

The crowd was still cheering as the duo walked offstage. The blue stallion approached the two as they came by.

"Damn! you ponies killed it out there!" he said. "I thought the building was gonna collapse from all that applause!"

"He ain't exaggerating either," Janet agreed. "You guys got the biggest pop of the night."

"I wouldn't say it was the biggest, but it was pretty loud," the exhausted Swing gasped. "I only hope it was enough to impress the judges."

"Speaking of which," the black stallion interjected, "Why is it that only two out of the five total judges are actually musicians? If it's supposed to be a music contest, the panel should consist solely of musicians."

"Actually, there's three," Redhead said. "You saw that stallion with the super-short mane, and dark brown suit?"

"Yeah."

"That's L.A., the one holding this show."

"Wait, you mean as in L.A. Babyface?!" the blue stallion exclaimed "The producer?!"

"The one and only."

"Oh Celestia!" the blue stallion jumped up with joy, surprising the others. "I knew it was a big-shot producer holding the show, but I didn't think it was L.A. Babyface! Oh Celestia, I hope I win, I hope-"

"Ahem."

"Uh... I mean, I hope we'll win?" The blue stallion said sheepishly.

Swing snickered.

Before anyone could say anything else, however, a loud, screeching sound came from the stage, causing pain for anyone that was in earshot. (i.e. EVERYBODY) after a few seconds, the noise eventually stopped

"Sorry 'bout that, folks!" the emcee said apologetically. "Seems my microphone went on the fritz for a moment, heh heh... But I know you ponies ain't got time for that! what you got time for is the winner of the talent show! Can our three finalists come out on stage please."

The group was perplexed. Three? Swing thought. There's only two acts back here. Where's the third supposed to be at?

The two groups were met with thunderous applause as they made their way onstage. The collective was surprised at how much love they we're getting from the audience.

I guess it's a good sign, Swing thought hopefully. Usually Appello crowds don't get all this excited, but then again, this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing goin' on!

"Alllllllllllllllllll rrrrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight! Now our competitors are all here and....." The emcee trailed off when he realized he was four ponies short. "Where are the Cutie Mark Crusaders?"

Oh, right. Swing thought. I forgot about them. But they seemed to disappear after Deja went onstage the first time...

Suddenly, a burst of bright yellow light exploded from the center of the stage, enveloping the entire theater. The ponies covered their eyes, unable to withstand the light's intensity. But as quickly as it came, the light disappeared, revealing the source: The Cutie Mark Crusaders.

"Ta-dah!" they shouted in unison.

Silence. You could almost hear a pin drop.

Then a low clap could be heard.

Followed by another.

And another.

And another. Eventually, the entire theater broke out into full applause, amazed by what they saw.

"Wowie.... I must say, that's a helluva way to make an entrance," The emcee said as the applause died down. "How in the world did you do that?"

"It's a secret," Sweetie Belle said innocently. "Though I'll admit, we did have a little bit of help..."

"Say no more, girls. Now without further ado, the winners of the talent show!" The emcee took an envelope from the judges, and began to open it with his magic.

"And tonight, the winner's of the talent show are...

Alright, Swing; This is it. Tonight, you and Red are going home made men. Swing could barely contain his excitement anymore. He was confident that the winners of the night were going to be--

"The Cutie Mark Crusaders!"

Say what? Please let that be my ears deceiving me, oh Celestia please.

It wasn't unfortunately, as he watched the emcee give the prizes to the Cusaders, who cheered jubilantly. Swing felt like his soul had dropped into a black void, never to return.

Redhead, equally as crushed as his partner was, started walking offstage. Swing followed suit, not even bothering to congratulate the Crusaders.

Damn... Of all the freakin' Chekhov Gun's the author could've used.... He uses the freakin' CMC!

Hours pass....

Ding!

............

Ding!

............

Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!

"Alright, alright, I'll get up already, sheesh..... Just like my momma was.... Always naggin me to get up."

A hung-over Swing rolled out of his bed, wanting to do anything but face the world today. After last night's crushing loss, he decided getting hammered would be the best option to forget about it, and thus began a ten-drink binge at Club P0n-3 with the strongest liquor he could afford (without ID, no less). Thankfully, Redhead was smart enough not to join in, and ended up flying Swing back home.

And now, as the young Zebran-Esquestian rapper made his way down the steps of his house, he silently cursed himself for both doing something so stupid, and living in a house with a ludicrous amount of steps than there should've been.

Ding! Ding!

"Jeez, don't get yo' panties in a twist, I'm almost there!" He shouted, thankful his uncle wasn't home at the time.

After what seemed like eternity, Swing finally managed to get to the door, and opened it.

in the doorway stood the two stallions he met at the show. Despite his throbbing headache, Swing suddenly remembered he didn't know their names at all, except for their friend.

"Hey.... um, is this a bad time?" the black stallion asked.

"Naw brah, you just woke me up, is all," Swing yawned. "come on in."

"No, it's fine. We only came by to ask you a question, anyway."

"This early in the morning?"

The two stallions looked at each other confusedly. "It's half past three," the blue stallion said.

Shit... I drank myself into a coma! "Errr..... Anyhow, what's up?"

The blue stallion spoke first. "We want you to help us produce an album."

Swing stared at them blankly. "Say what again?"

"We're doing an album for Janet, and we need some help producing. You made that song you performed last night, right."

"Yeah. Me and Redhead always collaborate. But we don't do R&B, though. Funk sometimes, but not R&B. We're strictly Hip-Hop."

"We kind of figured that, but we was thinking that if we could combine your drum beats with the R&B melodies, we could try something new," the black pony said.

Swing scratched his head, not sure if the after affects of his binge was causing his uncomprehendability.

Wait, is that even an actual word? Ahh, forget it.

"So you basically want to use me to help sequence your drums on the tracks?"

"Redhead too, if he's up for it." The blue stallion handed Swing a piece of paper with his number on it. "If you guys are interested, just call that number."

"I'll consider it," Swing said as he went back into his house. "Peace, love, and hair grease."

"Later," the stallions said in unison. As they started walking away, Swing ran back outside and called them back.

"Hey! I forgot to ask; what's your names?"

"I'm Keith," the black stallion answered.

"And I'm Bobby," said the blue one.

Swing smirked. "My name's Swingbeat, but I prefer 'Swing.' Nice to meet ya."

Chapter 2: Jailhouse Freestyle

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Jail.

An evil place that had swallowed up may ponies for the crimes they committed. A place where you had to watch your flank every second, otherwise one wrong move could spell the end for a pony.... Or worse. Three guesses as to what the "worse" represents.

Some ponies said it was morally wrong to keep ponies caged up in an hostile environment without proper rehabilitation. Others say that the jails were necessary in order to to weed out the lawbreakers from the good, wholesome, and upstanding citizens of Equestria (or so they liked to think of themselves as such), And it served as a glaring warning to any juvenile delinquents who dared to cross the line.

One particular Zebra-pony unfortunately found himself across that fine line, and thrown face-first into a cell with several stallions staring at him, with malicious intent in their eyes.

Gulping, he quickly made his way to the cell's payphone, which was set up next to a large table. The zebra was grateful that the police hadn't confiscated all his bits when they arrested him. Inserting the amount of bits needed to make his call, he dialed a number and waited nervously for his friend to pick up.

He stole a quick glance back at the other detainees, who were staring and drooling at the sight of his flank. He shuddered at the thought of what they could do to him, and silently prayed that his friend would pick up his phone.

Thankfully, his prayers were answered, as he heard a smooth voice speak through the receiver.

"Swing, is that you?"

"How'd you know it was me calling, Redhead?"

"Because you normally don't call from the county jail's payphone." The zebra could almost taste the sarcasm coming through the receiver. "But seriously, why the hell are you even in there?!"

Swing rubbed his left temple, groaning silently. "Well, the condensed version is that two jackasses decided to pick a fight with me. Unfortunately, Officer Ten Pennies was on patrol tonight..."

"Holy crap... He didn't pull out the billy bat on you, did he?" Redhead's voice suddenly went soprano. Swing, despite his amusement, forced himself to hold back a laugh.

"He may as well have. He arrested me, but let the other two horn suckers go,"

"Were they unicorns?"

"Nah, Pegasus, like you."

Swing heard Redhead mutter something that vaguely sounded like "mother bucker". "Well, I can't say I'm surprised. Ten Pennies hardly likes anyone that isn't a true-blood pony. Did you bail yourself out yet?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, that on top of arresting me and not reading me my rights, he stripped me of virtually all the bits that I had on me. So now I got no bail money; just chump change. And that's not even the best part: He's locked me up with Sodomites!"

"Oh, Celestia!" Redhead's voice went soprano again. "They didn't--"

"Nah man, I'm fine.... Well considering what happened, anyway. But I need that bail money quick; otherwise, I'm screwed. Literally." Now Swing's voice was starting to go soprano from fear.

"Dammit! ....I'ma try to get up there as fast as I possibly can, bro! I'm gonna go scrape up the bail money right now; just stay calm.... And try not to pick up the soap!"

"Thank you for the advice, captain obvious!" Swing snarked. He hung up the phone, and rested his head against the whitewashed concrete wall. The police precinct wasn't too far away from the Bed-Stuy neighborhood where he and Redhead lived, but Swing knew it was very likely that Ten Pennies would try to delay him as much as possible from bailing him out.

This is nice.... Swing thought. It really is. Everything was going well: I was in talks to produce an album, had a great time at Club P0N-3, and even got a date after hours! Then all of that crumbled when those two pegasi showed up.... On top of that, they started the fight, not me! stupid, cloud-buckin', ozone breathing....

Swing sighed and rubbed his temples, frustrated at his current situation. Seriously, I thought we Equestrians were all supposed to "love and tolerate," "friendship is magic," and all that jazz. But when you have self-loathing pricks like Ten Pennies, I wonder if those philosophies only apply to pure-blood Equine ponies....

"Hey! Young blood!" A raspy voice shouted out.

Swing looked toward the left side of the sell, and spotted an old, but in shape, unicorn sitting on a folding chair against the cell wall, holding a harmonica with his hooves. His rainbow mane was sprawled everywhere, and he had a bemused look on his face. Swing raised an eyebrow at the old stallion's appearance.

"And here I thought I was the odd one out..." Swing said to himself.

The old stallion smiled and beckoned Swing to come over, but the zebra-pony quickly shook his head, and backed up a step. This caused the old stallion to let out a hearty laugh.

"I won't hurt ya, young blood," he said. "I may be a crook, but even evil ponies have their own standards... Well some of 'em, anyway." He played a quick, funky tune on his harmonica, using his hooves to hold the instrument instead of his magic. He looked back up at Swing. "The guys you should really be worried about are over there." He pointed his hoof in the direction of the other detainees, who were huddled in a corner.

"It happens every time they get 'fresh meat,'" the unicorn continued. "They all draw straws to see who gets the jailbait for the night, No offence to you, of course. Though sometimes, if they don't agree on the results, they simply just go after the unfortunate sucka."

As if on cue, the inmates started arguing over how the straws were pulled unfairly, with some going as far as to even buck some of the other participants. Swing looked at the scene in horror, silently praying Princess Luna would swoop in and save him from this injustice.

"What's your special talent, young blood?"

Swing turned his head back towards the unicorn, puzzled by the sudden question. "Excuse me?"

"What's your special talent? Judging from your cutie mark, it's obviously something music-based." Noticing Swing's perplexed expression, he added, "Your slacks are torn up. That's why I can see your cutie mark."

Swing looked down at his hind legs, and saw that the old man was right: the right side of his slacks were ripped wide open, exposing his cutie mark: A treble music staff with a drum pattern. Swing made a mental note to shoot both of the stallions who beat him up.

"I'm a hip-hop musician. But what does that have to do with my situation?"

The unicorn played a few more notes on his harmonica before answering. "I had a friend named Blazing Saddle who told jokes to other inmates to keep them off his flank while he was in prison. He managed to survive there a full year in there until he was released just by telling jokes. He even got his cutie mark while he was in there."

"A late bloomer?" Swing asked.

"Quite."

Swing noticed that the inmates were starting to come toward him, and started inching towards the unicorn's side of the cell, fearing for his life.

"So you're saying if I freestyle rap to these nut jobs, they'll leave me alone?"

"Eeyup."

"What if I can't?"

"Light's out, party's over, cake's on the griddle, and you're already greased."

"Great."

The inmates were now closing in on Swing, who at this point, was now backed up against the wall. One of them, a mint-green unicorn, started to pull Swing's jacket off with his magic while the others grabbed his legs to keep him from moving.

Ah, crap...

"Yo, I call first dibs!" shouted a sky-blue pegasus who was holding one of Swing's legs.

"Buck that!" Shouted the unicorn. "I drew the longest straw, I get him first!"

"If anything, the one who should be first is me," a zebra interjected. "Because once I get my hands on you boy, I'm gonna make you scream!" He casted a dark smile at Swing, who was sweating profusely. He took another glance at the old unicorn on the chair, who had gone back to playing his harmonica.

I may as well take his advice, Swing thought. What else do I have to lose?

"Hey, uh, yeah! Won't ya'll gather around?" Swing started nervously. "l, uh, got something to say."

"What, you a comedian or somethin'?" Another detainee asked. "You gonna tell us some jokes?"

"Naw, I'm just a stallion who looks at things differently.... The way things are aren't how they're meant to be!" Swing managed to get loose from the detainees' grip. "With all the big stallions here, in the bullpen, I don't want my knees to take a full bend!"

Swing maneuvered past the detainees, and galloped toward the center of the cell. The detainees quickly followed suit, and surrounded him once again. The old unicorn started playing his harmonica at a faster pace. Swing took note of this and began speeding up his rhymes as well.

"H-hey now, step back, ask yourself 'Can it wait?'" he continued. "Or do you want to become a RAIDS candidate?
Take yo' hooves off me, don't touch me, ya dig? Or you'll go out just like Liberace did!"

At that, the detainees exchanged confused looks. "Who's Liberace?" One of them said.

"Wasn't he that famous pianist or somethin'?," another answered. "You know, the one everyone thought was a coltcuddler, but really wasn't?"

"Do you know just how many of those there are?!" yet anotheer detainee interjected. Swing took advantage of the momentary confusion and leaped onto the cell bars, and began to crawl across them. Unfortunately for him, the mint unicorn saw what he was trying to do, and quickly stopped him with his magic.

"Dammit!" Swing shouted as he tried to fight his way out of the unicorn's magical grasp. "Don't you get the point? I don't wanna get whipped in here! I ain't the only male you can stick your dicks in here!"

The blue pegasus flew up to Swing and tried to pry his hooves off the cell bars, only to be on the receiving end of a headbutt, sending him to the floor with a thud.

"How ya like me now, punk!" Swing snarked at the pegasus. "Tomorrow morning, yo' head's gonna be full of lumps and bumps!"

Swing's momentary burst of confidence didn't last long, however, as he felt his hooves sliding off the bars.The inmates surrounded him, waiting for him to fall down. Using all of his strength, Swing reached out for another bar, attempting to forcefully disrupt the mint unicorn's magic.

Suddenly, there was a flash of bright red light, nearly causing Swing to lose his grip, and blinding everyone who was in direct view of it. After a few seconds, Swing's vision returned. He looked up, and sighed in relief when he saw the he managed to keep his grip. What he saw below him, however, was a shock.

The mint unicorn that had been trying to pull him down with his magic was lying down on the floor, writhing in pain. All of the inmates, even the old stallion, looked at the scene in shock. Swing noticed a faint red glow emitting from the unicorn's horn, which he assumed was the resulting effect of the red light.

Holy sugar honey iced tea! Swing thought, speechless. Did I do that? But... That would be impossible, I'm not a unicorn... Though I've heard that zebras can channel a different kind of magic....

Wait, why in hell am I even contemplating this?! I need to get away from these clowns while I still got a ghost of a chance!

Without a further thought on the subject, Swing once again began climbing across the cell bars. The detainees quickly followed after him, wanting to avenge their fallen comrade, but Swing was quicker than they were, and managed to keep a fair distance away from them. Swing continued to rhyme, despite knowing he was on the losing end of the battle.

"Yo, this is a no-go," he said as he climbed across the cell. "I'm gonna call the the C.O. Me, a homo? Nah man, that's a no-no! But if you back off now, that might save you time off your sentence for good behavior. I'm speakin' from the heart, straight from the center. My flank has a sign that says 'Do Not Enter!'"

"Keep on rhyming, chump," the pegasus Swing headbutted earlier snarled at him. "As soon as we get you, we're gonna cut that annoying tongue of yours out your mouth!"

Swing hopped down onto a table to avoid being pinned down further by the detainees. "I can't help but rock a rhyme. I'm a zebra. It runs in my family. I can either do them normally, or I can subvert 'em and invert 'em. Where the hell is Redhead at? I'mma kill him!"

The entire group of detainees surrounded the table. Swing, knowing he wouldn't be able to escape his fate, closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable to occur.....

.....Which was mercifully averted with the arrival of two police officers.

"Hey!" one of the police officers shouted "Break it up in there! Unless you want us to pull out the pepper spray on you lot again!" No sooner than the cop finished his sentence, the mob quickly dispersed in various directions. The officers went inside and helped Swing off the table, who still had his eyes closed, off the table.

"It looks like you hit the right notes, songbird," said one of the officers. "You just made bail."

Swing's cautiously opened up one eye to look at the officer. It almost sounded too good to be true. "For real?"

"Yep. You're a free stallion now." The officer said.

"Ha ha! Thank Luna!" Swing dashed out of the cell cheering, earning glares from the detainees he escaped. He took notice immediately, and decided to end his time in lock-up with a bang.

"Hey y'all, No need for the long faces!" Swing said mockingly. "Just think of all the fun we had, a'ight? I wanna thank all of you for making me feel welcome, it really did the trick, know what I'm sayin'? Oh, and by the way...."

Clank!

"Suck my dick!"

The detainees galloped up to the bars and shouted several X-rated obscenities at Swing, who continued to mock them outside of the cell.

"Thank you, thank you!" Swing said, hamming his attitude up to further antagonize the detainees. "You're all too kind! I'm always available for birthday parties, concerts, and prison riots!"

"I'm gonna bust you up when I get out here!" One of the detainees shouted.

"Thank you, I love you too." With that, Swing trotted towards the main foyer, holding his head high, and dancing slightly as he walked, knowing it would piss of the detainees even further.

He was right. They got so riled up that the cops escorting him had to go into the cell and start beating some of the inmates. Swing laughed at the sight, and continued on his way.

As he left, he mouthed the word "Thanks" to the old stallion, who was still sitting in his chair. The old stallion simply chuckled, and waved goodbye to the departing musician. When Swing was out of sight, the old man only had one thought in his mind as he played his harmonica:

I wonder how his father would've reacted if he were alive to see this?

Swing quickly made his way to the main foyer of the police precinct, grateful to be away from the living nightmare that was the lockup. To him, the only place that would likely be scarier than jail would be sitting in a room next to an angry Princess Celestia.

Actually, now that I think about it, I likely wouldn't last long in a room with Celestia before getting blasted to the moon... I do tend to get a bit annoying sometimes...

Shaking his head, Swing looked around for Redhead in the lobby. He had been expecting him to be waiting for him near the hallway, but he was nowhere to be seen. Confused, Swing trotted to the other end of the lobby. He described Redhead's appearance to a female officer in the lobby, and asked if she had seen him, but she said she hadn't, leaving Swing perplexed.

This makes no sense. I CALLED him, and he said he'd be here with the money. Now, if that cop is right and he never showed up, then who in the hell paid my bail?

"Swing? What happened to you?

The musician, at this point, was utterly confused. His best friend didn't show up, yet he was somehow bailed out, and now not only was he hearing a voice he didn't recognize calling his name, it was female. Turning around, Swing expected to see someone from his neighborhood here getting ready to be put in lockup.

What he got instead was a gorgeous white-coated unicorn mare standing in front of him. Her spiky, neon-blue mane was sprawled all over the place, some of it obscuring one of her eyes, which shone a bright red. She wore a dark blue jacket that was emblazoned with a white double eighth note on the sleeve. Swing recognized her immediately.

"DJ P0n.... I mean Vinyl Scratch? What're you doing here?" Swing asked aloud. In his mind he was really saying, Keep ya head straight.... Don't start drooling now, bro! Freedom first, romance later!

Vinyl raised an eyebrow. "Bailing you out," she said. "I was there when you got arrested, remember? Those two pegasus you tried to keep from hitting on me?"

Swing scratched his head sheepishly. "Yeah, true... But I'm still confused, 'cause when I was in lock-up, the only person I called to bail me out was--"

"Homeboy! You're okay!"

Swing and Vinyl looked towards the main doors to see Redhead and another zebra-pony coming down towards them. As soon as they got to Swing, they tackled and hugged him, overjoyed that Swing was safe. Before Swing could properly respond, they started asking him a barrage of questions. Vinyl could only chuckle at the scene unfolding in front of her. Eventually, Swing managed to pry both stallions off him.

"Okay, okay!" Swing finally managed to get out. "Chill out! I'll answer all the questions you guys got for me one at a time, just calm down!"

"Okay then, who's the pretty mare you got over here, and does she have a sister?" The zebra-pony asked, gesturing towards Vinyl. Swing rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but chuckle. He was expecting him to ask that question.

"That's Vinyl Scratch, AKA DJ P0n-3. The DJ and owner of Club P0n-3 in Marehattan," he answered. "She bailed me out just before you got here."

At that revelation, the zebra-pony's eyes widened. "The DJ P0n-3?" He looked at Vinyl in disbelief.

"The one and only," Vinyl confirmed. She smiled, and extended her hoof to the zebra-pony. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." He shook Vinyl's hoof. "The name's Wildstyle by the way. I'm Swing's cousin."

Vinyl nodded. "I kinda figured that. You two look a lot alike."

"We get that lot, actually," Swing stated. "People who don't know us personally will always mistake us for twins... Speaking of which, why are you even here? Don't you live up in the upper east side of Marehattan now?"

"Yeah, I do. But Redhead called me, and told me what happened. He didn't have enough bits on him to get you out on his own, so he flew over my place and we pooled our money together to bail you out."

"That's.... Actually quite generous of you," Swing admitted. A small frown formed on his face. "I'm still a little pissed at you though, Red. 'Cause you almost left me to my doom."

"Wait, what?" Now it was Vinyl's time to be confused. "'left you to your doom'? Would you mind elaborating on that statement?"

"Please do," Redhead agreed.

"Sure... Once were out of this hellhole, that is."

About fifteen minutes later, the four ponies were seated inside a booth at a local diner a few blocks from the police precinct. On the way there, Swing had told them about the old stallion, and how he managed to outwit the detainees while in lockup. By the time they were seated inside and had taken their orders, Swing was nearly finished his story.

"...And once the cops had shut the cell door, I shouted 'Suck my dick!' And boy was it worth it. those idiots got so riled up, the cops had to go inside and beat all of em!" Swing laughed heartily.

"Sweet Celestia," Vinyl said, shaking her head. "With that kind of motivation, you probably coulda kept rapping all night long!"

"I'm impressed," Wildstyle interjected. "I'm not much of a rapper like you or Red, but it takes massive skill and balls to be able to hold off an entire cell of thugs with only rhymes. But really, you said 'go out like Liberace did,' and none of them knew who Liberace was?"

"Surprising, isn't it?" Swing said. He sighed and turned to Vinyl, who was next to him. "I'm just glad you came around Vinyl. Otherwise, I dunno what would've happened."

"let's not try to think about that, shall we?" Redhead said with a chuckle. "Let's just celebrate the fact that you survived lock-up."

"Redhead's right," Vinyl agreed. "It's best not to focus on the worst-case scenario right now."

"Well, while we're on that topic..." Wildstyle began. "what exactly happened that would get you from a date with DJ P0n-3, to getting your narrow flank arrested?"

The snark managed to get a chuckle out of Vinyl, while Swing simply glared at him. Before he could answer, a waitress came over and served them their food. Swing, who had ordered nachos, devoured his food in less than a minute.

"Take it easy, bro!" Redhead said in surprise. "We ain't in no rush to go home just yet!"

"Sorry, just that I haven't eaten since earlier this night... Or, more accurately, morning." A belch escaped Swing's mouth, causing him to blush.

"Eheh... 'Scuse me..." He said abashedly.

"Now Swing, you know that's no way to act around a lady," Wildstyle said with a smirk. The look Swing gave Wildstyle told him what he thought about that remark.

All of a sudden, there was a loud belch that nearly made all three stallions jump completely out their seats. In unison, all eyes turned toward Vinyl, who was wiping her mouth off, though it did nothing to hide the smirk on her face.

"Quite sorry about that, ol' chap," she said in a fake British accent, all the while trying not to laugh at the looks on her friends' faces. "Sometimes I tend to forget about my table manners."

For about ten seconds, there was dead silence at the table. Finally, Vinyl, unable to hold it in anymore, burst out laughing. Wildstyle soon followed, and soon enough, the entire table was in hysterics, unable to control their laughter.

"Oh, damn...." Redhead managed to say after the laughter began to die down. "I don't think I've laughed so hard in a long time."

"Me either," Swing agreed. "Not since the time Moe Dee tried to do that valedictorian speech a couple years back when he was graduating..."

"...And then he accidentally swallowed a pasprite that flew in his mouth, and he started cusssin' up a storm on stage!" Redhead finished, and they both broke down laughing again.

"Wow... A pasprite?" Vinyl asked. "Really?"

"Yeah!" Wildstyle answered. "I was there too. Front row. Moe was doing good on the speech, he was almost finished too, then out of nowhere, the pasprite flew into his mouth, and he accidentally swallowed it. and it all went downhill from there!" Now all three stallions were laughing.

"Wow...." Vinyl was at a loss. "That's actually pretty bad, messing up your valedictorian speech like that."

"Yeah, true," Swing agreed. "But everyone was too busy laughing their flanks off to actually think about that."

"Heh... Those were good times," Wildstyle said. His expression suddenly got serious. "You still didn't answer my question, Swing."

Swing, who was still trying to get over his giggle fit, sat up straight, and stretched his legs. "Alright," He began. "Since you wanna know so bad about what happened, I'm gonna tell you everything that happened that led up to my arrest. Is that enough to quench your curiosity?"

Wildstyle smirked. "I'm all ears, cuz."

"This should be an interesting story," Vinyl said, winking at Swing.

"I agree," Redhead interjected, wanting to hear how Swing had gotten a date with Vinyl. "Let's hear it."

Swing took a sip of his soda, and leaned back in his seat. "Okay. It all started earlier today. Me and Red were set to help these 3 ponies produce an album..."

Express Yourself!

by EStatic

Chapter 1: R&B and Hip-Hop Don't Mix

Chapter 2: Jailhouse Freestyle