King of the Caribbean - Breaking the News (Vinyl, unfinished

>You flip open your notepad to a new page as you make your way through the virtually empty computer lab

>No one here but a few geeks, and the person you're here for

>You are Anonymous

>Journalist extraordinaire

>Teller of the truth

>Voice of the people

>Stuck in this job under the iron rule of Twilight Sparkle, the Editor in Chief

 

>Twilight had signed you both up for the school newspaper the day it was announced

>She had said it would be a great way to meet new friends, and be a part of the community

>So far, you had met and interviewed two acne ridden nerds and one Flash Sentry

>The nerds kept making maths jokes that you didn't understand, and Flash Sentry kept trying to get into Twilight's pants

>Or skirt

>Whatever

>Deciding that brainless sports stars and fat code monkeys weren't interesting enough, Twilight had sent you out to interview someone with a little more "flare"

>Something to really draw attention to the newspaper, she had said

>So, naturally, she had told you to go talk to some coke sniffing, bass dropping techno musician

 

>You draw up behind Vinyl Scratch, the DJ who played at the Fall Formal like 2 months ago

>She's got her headphones on, subtly nodding her head along to the beat of whatever song she was listening to while she finished her homework

 

"Excuse me, Ms. Scratch, I was wondering if you'd be able to talk to me for a second."

>Your words fall on deaf ears, and Vinyl continues to rock out to the unheard tune

>Her movements become more and more pronounced, until eventually she's swaying her head from side to side, up and down like she was at a fucking rave or something

>Crazy bitch

>She starts to swing her arms around, and you step to the side, narrowly avoiding a painful dubstep powered haymaker

>Her arm catches on the cord of the headphones, and rips the jack out of the port

>You give a yell and jump back as your ears are assaulted by the loudest music you have ever heard in your life

>She finally looks away from the computer screen

 

>She reaches down, gingerly picking up the now broken jack

 

"Ooh, man! This was my favourite pair!"

>She rips them off her head, stuffing them into her bag as she gets up and rushes out of the lab

>Completely ignoring you in the process

>You rub your ears, waiting for the blood to stop leaking out

>How could she even hear after listening to music that loud?

>But there's no time for questions now, Anon

>Your target has escaped

>And you don't know where the fuck she could be

 

>Come to think of it, you didn't see much of her at school

>Only ever in the cafeteria during lunch and during music performances

>You decide to ask around, hopefully someone around here knows where she's run off to

 

"Hey, have any of you seen Vinyl Scratch?"

>The group of people shake their heads, before turning back to their phones

>Fucking fashionistas

>Probably have a mirror app so they can stare at themselves 24/7

>You ask some more people, receiving much of the same in the way of answers, though Cloudchaser told you to try asking Octavia

>Great, now you have to fucking find out where Octavia is, which will proba~

>Well shit, that's convenient

 

>You see Octavia walking down the corridor, cello case in hand, on her way to or from practise

>Most likely from, as she drops the case, her arm probably tired from playing

>Time to put on that world famous Anon charm

>World famous in Canterlot High

>To you

>You tuck the notebook and pen away, crouching a little to pick up the fallen case

>It's pretty heavy, but nothing you can't handle

>You heave it up, stowing it in Octavia's locker with a loud metal thud

 

"Thank you so much, it's rare to find such a gentleman in a place like this."

>She motions to Flash and his gang, who are busy spitting for distance

 

"Well, I couldn't just ignore an instrument as fine as this. Plus, your cello was on the ground."

>Octavia giggles at your compliment, fiddling around in her locket to hide her slight blush

>Fucking smooth as silk holy fuck

 

"Well, if there's anything I can do for you, Mr. Hero, just let me know"

>She bats her eyelashes at you, and starts to walk off

>You chance a glance at her ass as she walks off

>7/10, a little flat but would look good in yoga pants

>Snap out of it, Anon

>You're a professional

>And there is something Octavia can help you with

 

"Hey, Octavia! Wait up!"

>You jog up the hallway, planting your hand on her shoulder

>She wheels around, startled by your sudden intrusion of her personal space

>Though she doesn't seem to mind that much

 

"Now that I think of it, there is something you can help me with."

 

"And what might that be?"

>You notice that she's smiling now, wider than she should be smiling at someone she just met

>Pretty sure she wants your D

 

"I need to find Vinyl Scratch. Do you know where she could be?"

>Her smile falters a little, and her body language drops the enthusiasm of before

 

"Oh, Vinyl. I think I saw her rush out the front door a few minutes ago. She said something about going to the music store."

>Ditching school for a new pair of headphones

>How hardcore is that

>Well you're about to find out, because you're going there too

>You thank Octavia, checking your pocket to make sure your pen and notepad are still there

>They are

>You look around suspiciously, making sure there are no teachers around

>No one suspects a thing

>You open the door a crack, and slip out, hurrying across the campus

>You duck behind the horse statue, and peek out, looking back to the door

>No alarms have been raised, no guards or guard dogs are scouring the area looking for you

 

>You catch a bus to the city, ready to get that delicious story, before you're faced with a dilemma

>You've never been to the city. Where the fuck even is the music store

>Before today, you didn't even know music stores were still a thing

>You couldn't have thought this through better

>Master plan

>Infallible

 

>You decide to ask for directions, figuring the sooner you get back to school, theres less chance of you being missed

>You spot a particularly trendy looking guy loitering on the street corner

>He's bound to know where it is

 

>You walk over to him, crossing the street quickly to avoid getting your ass run over

 

"Hey man, do you know where I can find the music store?"

>He's got his earphones in, listening to some music

>Fuck music

>He notices you, though, and takes one earphone out

 

"What was that!?"

>He yells over the sound of his own tunes

>Retard

 

"I said, do you know where I can find the music store!"

 

"Oh, yeah man! It's down that way!"

>He points you down the street, and puts the earphone back in

>Fucking music junkies

>You thank him, and start off in the direction he pointed

>After a few short minutes of walking, you come across a large building

>A bright neon sign out the front informs you that you've arrived to the right place

>You push through the doors, and are immediately attacked on all sides by some ridiculously loud dubstep

>It's not even a good genre

>You fight through the noise, and scan the shelves and racks

>Vinyl records, cds, mix tables, headphones, microphones, they've got everything here

>Sure enough, you spot Vinyl, browsing through a massive selection of headphones

 

>You cross over to the microphone rack, which is conveniently located near the headphone rack

>Slowly, you pretend to browse through the many models of microphone, reading information you don't understand

>You switch to the headphones, still pseudo browsing

>You 'accidentally' bump into Vinyl, who gives a bit of a yelp and falls over

>Bitch is so off her face she can't even stand up

>You extend your hand, which she gladly accepts, and you pull her to her feet

>She brushes her self off, before turning to you

>You squint as the overhead light reflects off her goggles

 

"Thanks, man."

 

"No problem, miss. I should have been more careful."

>She looks at you for a second, cocking her head to one side

>Suddenly, she places her hands on your shoulder

 

"Hey, I remember you! You're the guy from the library!"

>So she did see you

 

"Yeah, I was looking for you actually."

 

"Oh yeah, why is that?"

 

>Suddenly, you're starting to realise how weird it must seem, following her all the way here

>But you've gone to far to back out now

 

"I'm with the school's newspaper, and we're running a story on musicians, like, what it's like making music, that sort of thing."

>She laughs a little, turning and browsing through headphones again

 

"So you want to interview me?"

>She selects a set of purple headphones, making her way over to the counter

 

"Yes."

>She pays for the headphones, smiling as she tears open the blister pack with her bare hands

>The fuck

>She rests them around her neck, making her way out the front door of the shop

>You follow

 

"What do you want to interview me about?"

 

"Things like, why did you start making music, who are your inspirations, generic newspaper shit like that."

>She laughs, pulling her phone out of her pocket and checking something

 

"Well, Mr. Journalist, I'd be happy to answer whatever questions you throw my way!"

>Score one for Anonymous

>Twilight's gonna be so proud of you, she might even let you leave

>But probably not

 

"There's only about 10 minutes left in the school day. You wanna do the interview now, or..?"

>She points to her phone, showing that it is, indeed, 2:50 pm

 

"May as well. Where should we go?"

 

"I know a great place, where we'll be pretty much alone."

>She motions for you to follow her, and she takes off down the street

>You expected her to lead you to a rave party orw some shit like that

>Instead, you both draw up at a little ice cream parlour

>She takes a seat in the corner, and you pull out a chair and sit opposite here

>You take out your notepad and pen, flipping to a clean page

 

"Why don't you start by telling me what inspired you to start making music?"

 

>One and a half hours later

>You've filled up 10 pages

>Vinyl has pulled her glasses up, resting them on her forehead, barely visible under her spiky blue hair

>Pretty sick haircut, you think

>It's starting to get dark, though, so you cut the interview short

 

"OK, Vinyl, we're gonna have to cut the interview short today, 'cause it's getting kinda dark"

>She yawns, stretching her arms to the sky

 

"No biggie. I've still got loads more to say, so come find me tomorrow."

 

"When and where?"

>You both get up, gathering your stuff

 

"I don't know. At lunch, some time. I'll be in the caffeteria.

>She turns down the street, giving you a smile and a wave

>You return the gesture, and make your way home

>You return home, only to find Twilight Sparkle sitting on your doorstep

 

"Anon, where were you? You didn't clock out at the end of the day!"

>The fuck's a clock out?

 

"Relax, Twi. I was interviewing that Vinyl chick. The one you told me to interview, remember?"

>Her expression softens slightly, and you open the door inside, Twilight stepping in after you

 

"Well, what'd you get from her? Something interesting and exciting?"

>You pull out your notepad and hand it to her, showing her the right page to read from

>She begins to read, furiously flipping through the pages

>She looks at you as she finishes, a wide smile on her face

 

"Anon, this is great!"

>Anonymous confirmed best journalist 2013

>Still, nothing wrong with milking praises

 

"You think that's great? I'm going back to her tomorrow, apparently there's still loads more she has to say."

>Twilight's face threatens to split in two as she pulls you into a big hug

 

"Oh, Anon! The newspaper is gonna be so popular!"

>Cut to afternoon of the next day

>You hadn't seen Vinyl all day

>Probably spent the whole day shooting up heroin

>You begin the long trek home, passing through the city to the suburbs beyond

>On your way you come across the Canterlot doughnut shop

>As you pass, the aroma of freshly baked goods reaches your nostrils

>A chain reaction is set off, with your brain and stomach realising you hadn't had much to eat today

>You push open the door, and your senses are overloaded

>Colours and smells as far as the eye can see

 

>You make your way to the counter, artfully dodging and stepping around the tables

>If your career as a journalist doesn't work out, you could always be a master thief

>Arriving at the counter, you study the menu

>Everything looks great

>How are you supposed to decide?

>Man was not built to make such difficult decisions

 

"Try the double glazed Apple Fritters."

>You wheel around, and find yourself staring into a pair of purple glasses

>You jump back a bit, only to hit the counter with your spine

>You fall to the floor as Vinyl laughs, stepping past you and giving the bell on the counter three sharp taps

>In seconds, a pink skinned girl with bushy hair has arrived, holding a sheet of paper and a pen

>You recognise her as Pinkie Pie, one of Twilight's friends

 

"Hi! Welcome to Sugarcube Corner, can I take your order?"

>You pick yourself up, messaging your lower back

 

"I'll have the double glazed Apple Fritters, please."

>Pinkie's smile gets even wider, if that was possible

 

"Ooooh, it's been so long since I've made one of those! Most of the time, they're too sweet for people to handle, and they end up going crazy! Like, this one time, I made one that was so sweet, this guy actu~"

>You clear your throat, signalling Pinkie to shut up

 

"Oh, right, sorry. And what does your girlfriend want?"

>Is this bitch serious?

>Vinyl scratches the back of her head, and you kick at the ground

>Pinkie's shit eating smile hasn't left her face for even a second

 

"Um, I'll just have a coffee, thanks."

>Pinkie scribbles something on the sheet of paper, and tears a smaller bit of paper out of a machine

>She hands it to you, and bounces back into the kitchen, the door slamming behind her

 

"We're number 43, Vinyl."

>You both take a seat, and Vinyl lifts her glasses off

 

"Hey, yeah, sorry for being a no show today, I had some music things I needed to do, couldn't make it to school~"

>You wave your hand dismissively

 

"It's fine, Scratch. As long as we finish it now, there'll be no problem."

 

>You pull out your notepad and pen, which you've taken to carrying around everywhere with you

 

"OK, there's only a few questions we didn't get through last time, so it shouldn't take to long."

 

"Ask away."

 

>You check your phone, running down the list of questions you were set to ask

>Discretely, of course

>It makes you look a lot smarter if they think you're coming up with them as you go along

 

"So, why did you start making music?"

>You wonder why this wasn't higher up on the list

 

"I've always loved music. The way it can influence a person's emotions and movements. So it only seemed natural that I make my own!"

>Not much meat to that response, better break out the specifics

 

"But why techno? Like, why not blues or jazz or hip hop or whatever?"

>She smiles a little, and leans in

 

"Well, just between you and me, I can't sing for shit. So, I decided instead to make music where there doesn't have to be any singing."

 

"Should I write that down, or..?"

 

"Mmm... No."

>You both share a laugh, hardly audible over the chatter coming from the surrounding customers

 

"Okay, so, what do y~"

 

"Hi, number 43s! Your orders are ready!"

>Pinkie, seemingly having materialised out of nowhere, drops your apple fritters and Vinyl's coffee onto the table

>You both thank her, and she giggles a bit before running off back to the kitchen

>You take a bite out of a fritter before continuing

 

"Alright, as I was saying, what do your parents think about your career choice? How did they react, are they supportive, ect."

>Silence meets your ears, and you look up from your notepad

>Vinyl has let her glasses fall over her eyes, and is taking a deep sip from what is probably a scalding hot coffee

 

"Um, Vinyl?"

>She lifts her head up

 

"Yeah?"

>Her voice falters, and you can tell something is wrong

>Unsure of how to continue, you opt to sit in silence like an idiot

>The following minute and a half could possibly have been the most awkward thing in the history of the world

 

>Vinyl pulls out her phone, checking something

 

"Oh, geez. Sorry Anon, but I've gotta go."

>She gets up, reaching into her bag

>Pulling out a piece of paper and a pen, she leans over and writes something on it

 

"Here, call this number if you need anything else."

>With that, she adjusts her headphones and hurries out the door

>Leaving her coffee behind

>Damn bitch, that shit be expensive yo

>Like some bare $$$

>You get up, leaving the rest of your Apple Fritters behind

>You think you hear something coming from the kitchen

>Some kind of

>Frustration

>Must be your imagination

 

>You're halfway home when your phone goes off

>It's Twilight

 

"Hey, Twi. What's up?"

 

"Anon! Hi, I was just wondering, what else did you get from Vinyl? Anything good?"

>You remember back to the awkward conversation

 

"Not much. She had to go do something. She gave me her number though, so I could probably ask her anything whenever."

 

"Do you think you could get a few pictures of her work area? Like, the instruments and stuff?"

>You don't even know if she uses instruments

>Probably not

 

"Yeah, sure, I'll ask."

 

"Thanks Anon, see ya later!"

>She hangs up, and you're left alone with your thoughts

>After how she acted today, was it really a good idea to ask to go to her house?

>Yes.

>You pull out the piece of paper Vinyl gave you, adding the number to your contacts

 

Subject: Photos

Hey Vinyl, Twilight wants me to get a few pictures of where the magic happens. Your computer, garage band set up, ect. Contact me ASAP

~Anon

 

>Very formal

>All business

>You hesitate before hitting send

>You only just met this girl

>And it's only a school newspaper

>That no one will even read anyway

>Then you remember how happy Twilight looked when you said how well the story was going

>Message Sent

>Now all there is to do is wait for a reply

>Message Received

>Well shit that was fast

>You tap through the menus on your phone

>Your fingers are really too big for it

>You open the new text

 

RE: Photos

 

Yeah man, feel free to swing by anytime tomorrow, and if you've got enough time, we can finish the interview then as well.

 

>You expected her to use more 1337 $p33k

>But that doesn't matter, because now you can finally finish this story, and get it published

>Feels good man

>You step through the front door, kicking off your shoes and making your way up the staircase to your room

>Thank god it's Friday

 

>You wake up at 12pm, allowing yourself to sleep in because, you know, it's the weekend

>You drag yourself out of bed, and throw on some clean clothes

>In your sleepy haze, you carefully descend the staircase, arriving at the bottom without incident

>No one else has awoken yet, so you decide to make some breakfast

>There's no cereal, so you opt for some toast instead

>Butter toast and juice, a classic

>You settle down in front of the T.V, and prepare for some wholesome Saturday morning programming

>It's been one hour, and you've yet to find any quality T.V shows

>Deciding that trying to watch television is a lost cause, you pull yourself free from the groove you've created in the leather chair, wondering what to do with the rest of your day

>You're about to go upstairs an spend all day on the computer, when you suddenly remember

>You're supposed to go take pictures of Vinyl's computer today

 

>You slip on your shoes and head out the door

>And halfway down the street, you remember something else

>You've got no fucken idea where she lives

>Good thing you thought ahead

>You sit down at a bus station, and pull out your phone, scrolling through the contacts until you get to Vinyl's number

 

RE:RE: Photos

 

I just remembered that I don't know where you live. What's your address?

 

>Now we play the waiting game

>It could be hours

>It could be a few minutes

>All we know is, there will be time involved

>And exactly 50 seconds later, you receive a reply

>2fast4u

 

>It simply contains her address

>Some street you'd never heard of, so you open maps on your phone and set a course for the unknown

I am a rap god

>You take off down the street, following the directions given to you on your phone

>You enter onto Vinyl's street, and walk slowly down, scanning for her number

>Eventually you spot it, and are taken aback by the state it's in

>Paint is peeling off the walls, and there are what looks like rusted cars in her backyard

>The lawn is overgrown, the grass reaching just under your knee

>You're 99% sure that you've got the wrong house, when you see a familiar spike of blue hair appear behind the screen door

 

"Hey, Anon! You're right on time!"

>Are you?

>You don't recall scheduling a specific time

>Regardless, you wade through her yard, feeling like Steve Irwin crossing through a crocodile infested river

>Except instead of crocodiles, there are probably snakes

>You manage to make it to the doorstep without any bites

>Vinyl leads you inside, allowing the screen door to slam closed behind you

>The inside is what you expected after seeing the outside

>Wallpaper peeling, trash on the floor

>It looks like they stopped buying new technologies circa 1970

>This is most definitely not what you had expected

 

"Here, let's go into my room. The rest of the house is a bit of a mess."

>Understatement of the century

>Nevertheless, you smile as you pass through the kitchen

>The sink is piled high with unwashed dishes, and it looks like the garbage hasn't been emptied in about 5 years

>She leads you down a hallway, and to a less decrepit looking door

>There's a sign hanging in the middle that reads;

 

-----VINYL'S ROOM-----

NO BOY'S ALLOWED

 

"I don't think I should go in. The sign says I'm not allowed to."

>She laughs at your joke, and grabs you by the hand, pulling you in

 

"I think we can make an exception, just for you."

 

>Inside, you find the exact opposite of the rest of the house

>The walls are lined with posters of obscure techno bands, and there are what look like vinyl records framed and hung up

>Opposite her bed is the most amazing computer setup you've ever seen

>Two massive bass speakers are placed both sides next to what is surely the most powerful computer tower ever built

>Three large monitors line the back of the desk, behind which you can see a forest of cords

>You're fairly certain that if you were to plug your phone into that mess, it would catch fire

>Meanwhile, Vinyl clears a section of the desk off, by sliding a bunch of papers onto the floor

 

"OK, you can take a bunch of pictures, and then you can ask whatever questions still need to be asked!"

>She launches herself backwards, landing on her bed and placing her hands behind her head

>You pull out your phone and snap a few pictures of her computer, the desk and the 2 laptops beside it

>Making sure to snap a few different angles, of course

>Granted, only one or two of them will actually be used in the article

>But you figure you should let Twilight choose which ones she wants

>She'd have your head otherwise

>And your job

>You are getting paid for this

>Right?

>Regardless, you check your notepad, scanning the list of questions unanswered

>Theres only two left, and one of them involves her parents, which seems to be a sensitive topic

>The other is completely retarded

>Something about drugs and shit

>You can't say that on television

>Or newspapers

>But you need more material for the story, so you'd better come up with something

>Quick

 

"Uh..."

>That's a start

>The gears in your head begin to turn, and you go for a pretty obvious one

 

"How did you afford all this?"

 

"Uh, duh? I'm a DJ, and we DJ's get paid to do DJ things at DJ places. Like, at the Fall Formal, I think the school paid me, like, 500 bucks. To play music!"

 

>Well, that should have been obvious

>Regardless, you jot her answer down, if only to fill the space and make you feel as though you worked harder

>You look at your phone, and see it's only been five minutes since you got here

>What an awkwardly short time to visit someone's home

 

"We'll, I guess I'd better be going."

>Vinyl opens her eyes, sitting up on the bed as you step through the bedroom door

 

"Hey, wait!"

>You stop, turning your head slightly to show you're listening

 

"Are you, uh, doing anything important today?"

>You consult your mental schedule

>Your crotchety aunt and uncle are coming for a visit today, bringing with them your shit head cousins

>After that you'll have to wash the dog, because your shithead cousins will undoubtedly throw mud at the poor creature

>You're sure he'll find somewhere to hide

>He usually does

 

"No, why?"

 

"Well, it's just that, you've only been here for like, what, five minutes? Seems like kind of a waste to walk all that way just for this."

>She has a point

>But what exactly does she want to do?

 

"What exactly do you want to do?"

>She gives a smirk, and walks over to a shelf that you hadn't noticed before

post a "fuck you" in response to this update if you thought le sex was comink

>It's full of what look like DVD cases

>She selects one, and pulls it out

 

"I bet ya can't beat me at Mario Kart..."

 

>It is now 5:43pm

>You've been playing vidya with Vinyl all day

>And she was absolutely right

>You can't beat her at Mario Kart

>Or Halo

>Or COD

>Mario Party

>Super Smash Bros.

>Gran Turismo

>And probably not at this latest game

 

"BOOM! HEADSHOT, BITCH!"

>You're heart breaks into a million pieces as you watch your avatar drop to the ground, his head noticeably missing from his neck

>She's got to have a modded controller or a modded game or a modded hand or something

>She's just too good

 

"SUCK A DICK, ANONYLOSER!"

>Spawn camp harder, n3rd.

 

>Loud dubstep is playing through the large speakers connected to her computer, and you can feel the vibrations travel through the bed

>It hurt your ears at first, but now you barely notice it

>You're too focused on landing this killing blow when

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gt3Is0XFHoA

>Your avatar falls to the ground, and Vinyl collapses into hysterics

 

"AH HA HA HA. YOU, YOU'RE SO BAD AT THIS GAME!"

>Your eyes narrow, and you grip the controller tight

>You have disrespected the gods for the last time, Vinyl

>You grab her controller, and throw it into a basket full of dirty laundry

 

"Hey! That's cheating!"

>You say nothing, and instead take this opportunity to run up behind her avatar, knifing it in the back for a one-hit-kill

>Vinyl falls to her knees, bellowing a dramatic "Nooooooooooo!"

 

"HA HA! You just got knifed, noob!"

 

"Nuh uh, you cheated!"

 

"Did not!"

 

"Did too!"

>She grabs the basket of dirty clothes and throws it at you, burying your face in tank tops, jeans and what appears to be dirty underwear

>You shoot backwards as Vinyl tackles you, knocking the air out of your lungs

>Instinctively, you inhale deeply, and are greeted with the scent of sweat and other assorted odors you'd expect to find in a basket of dirty clothes

>She digs your face out of the pile, and you take a few deep breaths of cool air

>You open your eyes, and see she's pointing something at your face

>As your retinas adjust to the light, you see its a large speaker, attached to some futuristic looking handle

>You follow the cord, which appears to be connecting the apparatus to her computer

 

"You have 10 seconds to admit that you cheated."

 

"Or what"

 

"Or I blast the loudest wubs known to mankind directly in you face!"

 

"10"

>Shit just got serious

 

"9"

>Fool, there is no pin that can hold me

 

"8"

>You glance her arms, and notice their pretty thin

 

"5"

>Like, Rainbow Dash's arms are pretty thin, but Vinyls' have no muscle to them

 

"3"

>You grab her arm, and easilly wrench the wub blaster out of her hands

 

"H-Hey!"

>She tries to grab it, but you hold it away, your superior arm length keeping it just out of her reach

>Unfortunately, you're too focused on keeping your arm up, and don't realise that you've allowed your finger to slip onto the trigger

>Vinyl's eyes go wide, and you feel your ears start to bleed as the loudest music you've ever heard fills the room

>It's got to be like, 50 decibels louder than what could be considered safe

 

>You drop the gun, and it falls onto Vinyl's bed sheets, which have collected in a pile on the ground next to her bed

>The music is muffled, and you close your eyes as the ringing in your ears subsides

>You open your eyes, and see that Vinyl has slid off you, and is now laughing next to you, struggling to breathe

 

"You should have seen the look on your face! It was all like~"

>She pulls a face that looks halfway between surprised and a constipated guy trying to take a shit

 

"I was not. Besides, you looked way worse, you were like~"

>You pull your own face, which probably looks like you've just stuck your head out the window of a fighter jet

>Vinyl takes one look at you, and falls face down into her pillow, muffled laughter drifting up to your ears

>After a few minutes, during several of which she stopped breathing entirely, she rises back up, red in the face and struggling to breathe

 

"But you still can't beat me at any of these games"

 

"Yeah, but thats because your games suck"

 

"They do not!"

 

"Yeah they do. Your games are terrible."

 

"You're just saying that because you're bad at them!"

 

"You wanna have another round?"

 

"Only if you're ready to lose again!"

>A smug look washes over her face, and she lifts herself off the bed, walking over to where the controller rests on the floor

>She lets out surprised gasp, and you turn around, the smile on your face instantly vanishing

>Panic fills you, and you feel your dick shrivel and fall off as you lock eyes with Vinyl's dad

>He stands at the entrance to Vinyl's room, his large frame taking up the entire doorway

>You can literally feel the unfriendliness emanate from him

>Apparently Vinyl can too, as she has stopped laughing, her eyes wide

 

"Oh, uh... H-hi dad. I thought you weren't getting home 'till 7..."

 

"Get out."

>He points at you, his face completely expressionless

>You slide off the bed, and make your way over to the door

>He moves to the side as you slip past him, and watches you though kitchen

>You open the front door, noting how low the sun is in the sky

>Vinyl's dad's car is parked crookedly in the drive way

>It's really beat up, and looks to be from 2004

>As you descend the front stairs, you can hear yelling coming from inside

 

"TOLD YOU ABOUT... AND YOU'RE FUCKING... SPENDING ON..."

>A part of you wants to go back inside

>But you have a feeling that would just make things worse for both of you

>Instead, you wade through the grass, and begin your journey home

 

>You shiver as you walk through the late autumn evening, hugging yourself tightly against the cold wind

Winter is Coming

>You hear shouting coming from a house to your left, and then you notice

>This is a really shitty neighbourhood

>It had looked a fair bit nicer during the day

>But now, in the late afternoon sun;

>Rusted out cars, overgrown lawns and shattered windows as far as the eye can see

>You look up at a street sign, and sure enough, you've just arrived at the intersection of Pegasus Street and Downy Street

 

"Fuck me sideways..."

>You've walked right into the heart of shitsville without even realising it

>Suddenly feeling very afraid, you pick up the pace

>Legs, full canvas, put as much distance between us and this miserable place as possible

>Aye, Captain Brain

>You power walk through the streets, channelling your inner Sanic

 

"Oi, faggot! Where you goin' at this time of night?"

>Gotta go fast

>You break into a full sprint, going at several Miles Tails per-hour

 

"Come on guys, get him and fuck him up."

>Ha, these fools don't know that Sonic's my game, speeds my name

>You tear through the streets, drawing closer to the train tracks that have long been out of service

>Observing as the urban decay becomes less and less dilapidated, you eventually hop the tracks into the goodlands

>You hear the lads give up the chase, returning to their shit smeared off-ramp clubhouse or something

>You don't care though

>You're just glad to be out of that place

>You make the rest of the journey home with relative ease, though it is still very cold

>Theres even frost forming on some of the windows, though it might just be the light

>Only one things for certain; you've got a very lazy Sunday ahead of you

>A wonderful sunday full of the internet and sleeping in

>It's not like you've got any journalistic work to do

>Right?

 

"But Twilight, I don't wanna write a story!"

>You wail into your phone, still unable to find the strength to leave your bed

 

"I don't care, Anon. Y~"

 

"But it's Sunday!"

 

"You signed up for the journalist position, so you have to write up the story."

 

"But I don't know the first thing about writing, and, if you remember correctly, you signed me up for this."

 

"Just take all the things you've interviewed her about, and write them into a presentation format."

 

"Why can't you do it?"

 

"Because, I've got important editor things to do."

 

"Like what?"

 

"Like things. Just get it done, Anon."

>With that, Twilight's voice is replaced with the dial tone

>Well isn't that just grrrrrrrrrrrrrrreat

>Now, instead of doing your usual thing on Sunday, you get to write a column for the school newspaper

>You're not a writer

>You hate writing things

>Writing is for faggots

hurr meta

>Resigned to your fate, you haul yourself out of bed, hoping to get done with this sooner rather than later

 

>It is now 11:34pm

>You have not written anything that even closely resembles a newspaper article

>You're not even sure the school would let you publish erotic fan fiction of some obscure Japanese anime

>Probably best not to ask

>You lean back in your chair, holding your phone at least 4 meters away from you, as though it was a time bomb full of toxic pubic lice

>Better get this over with

 

"Anon, hi, how's it going?"

 

"Twilight, I, uh"

 

"Let me guess; you didn't write the article?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Well, I didn't see that coming a mile away."

 

"When's it supposed to be submitted?"

 

"Tomorrow."

 

"Oh..."

>Twilight sighs loudly, and you can hear the smugness in her voice

 

"I knew you wouldn't get it done, so I took the liberty of writing it up myself."

>Well shit, that's convenient

 

"So no harm done, right?"

>You hear her scoff, and hang up

 

 

>You slowly open your eyes, irritation filling you as you rise to the anthem of your alarm clock

Ring ring, mother fucker

>As you slide out from under the covers and drag yourself out of bed, you find yourself thinking that they need to add at least 8 more days between Sunday and Monday

>All of them being days off, of course

>Ah yes, it is Monday today

>Or, as you and Twilight know, that day of the release of the first edition of the Canterlot High Informer

>You didn't come up with the name

>And with this release, comes Twilights' inevitable reaction

>Worrying, stressing, nit-picking and panicking

>Probably all at the same time

>But you're not too worried about that at the moment

>As you flush the toilet and pull your pants up, you haven't a care in the world

 

>You step out of the bathroom, steam from the shower flowing out into the hall

>Rubbing your tired eyes, you descend the staircase, eager to get some food in you before the long day ahead

 

"Anon, you're friend Twilight is here for you!"

>Your mother's cheery voice calls out from the front door, informing you of the oncoming shitstorm

>Well, may as well get this over with

>You arrive at the bottom of the staircase, the kitchen to your right and the front door to your... front

>At the door, you see your mother cheerfully chatting with Twilight, who is obscured from view

>Assuming she'd eventually be invited in, you turn into the kitchen, the one with all that food in it

 

 

>You 'make' yourself a pretty standard breakfast, which consists of a glass of juice and a banana

>You down the juice in one go, and pocket the banana, seen as you're not especially hungry right now

>You leave the kitchen, and sure enough, your mum has invited Twilight inside, and you spy her sitting down on a couch

 

"Heya, Anon!"

>She smiles at you, not a hint of worry playing over her face

>That's... unsettling

>And very out of character

>It kinda feels like someone couldn't be bothered writing in a scene where Twilight freaks out

>Weird

 

leblatantlystolenconversationformattingface.jpg

"Are you ready to go?"

>"Yeah, just let me grab my bag and we can head out"

 

>You walk over to where you dumped your bag at the door yesterday

 

"Anon, if you don't take your bag up to your room, how do you do all the homework that~

>"Nah nah nah, don't worry about it Twilight, I get it done, don't you worry about it"

"But Mr. Discord said yesterday tha~

>"Twilight trust me, I always hand in my homework on time and fully completed"

 

>You glance towards your mother, who looks at you disapprovingly

 

"At least take a jacket Anon, its cold outside"

>"I doubt that, mum. It was warm yesterday, and it'll probably be warm today"

"No Anon, it really is freezing out there, theres frost and everything!"

 

>You turn to Twilight, the beginnings of a retort faltering as you see how warmly shes dressed

 

>A heavy wool coat covers her body, and a pink & purple striped scarf is wrapped around her neck

>She's still wearing her normal miniskirt, though underneath she dons black leggings and some warm looking ugg boots

>Ordinarily that's trashy and a sure sign of a bogan, but she makes it work

 

>"I... guess I could change into something warmer."

>Your mother nods to you, and Twilight continues to revise her homework

>You make the trip back up the stairs to your room, and dig through the wardrobe for something more practical

>Finding nothing but a worn out old jacket, you slip it on, and feel a little warmer, though not by much

>Doesn't matter

>A real man doesn't fear the cold

>You call out a goodbye to your mother, and hear Twilight stuff her books into her bag and scramble after you

 

>Holy fuck it is cold out here

>You should have pulled on 5, maybe 6 more shirts and a few more pairs of pants

>Your breath is clearly visible in the air, though you spend more time breathing into your hands

>Feeling your fingers begin to frost over, you're relieved to find that you're already entering the school building

>The festivity in here is too much, and you shield your eyes from the innocent purity of it all

>Like seriously, these halls are fully decked

>Lights, tinsel line the walls and outline the doors, and in the center sits a massive Christmas tree

>It's that time of year again

>You observe some of the choir members singing Christmas carols

>Pinkie Pie running up to every person she sees and excitedly wishing them a merry Christmas

>You stick your finger in your mouth and make a gagging motion, turning to Twilight as you do so

>She laughs and pushes you playfully, and you stumble a little before recovering against a wall

 

>"Twilight, that's not very festive of you"

"It's not Christmas yet, I don't have to be festive"

>"If its Christmas enough for the school, then its Christmas enough for you"