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A Guy, a Lyre, and a Parkbench -Chapter 17-

By: PaleNarrator on Jul 11th, 2012 | syntax: None | size: 11.31 KB | hits: 775 | expires: Never

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>WHO: “Alright, let’s go over this ONE more time. Lyra, you’re not keeping up with me when I’m singing, pick up the pace on the backup vocals and TRY not to break the strings on your guitar this time.”
>LYRA: “Got it.”
>WHO: “Octavia, you need to-“
>OCT: “Fuck off.”
>WHO: “…right then. Derpy?”
>DERP: “Yup!”
>WHO: “I’m gonna need more cowbell.”
>DERP: “On it!”
>WHO: “Right, well, let’s start this up again shall we? On my count. Three.”
>LYRA: “Hey Octavia, where are Anon and Bon-Bon?”
>WHO: “Two.”
>OCT: “I think they’re still in bed, Lyra.”
>WHO: “One.”
>As Whooves begins to sing into the microphone, Lyra drops her guitar and makes a mad dash to the door.
>WHO: “Oh for the love of- JUST LEAVE THEM BE! We need to practice for the show tonight!”
>LYRA: “Sorry guys, I just need to make a quick stop!”
>Whooves groans in frustration, while Octavia blows a bubble on the gum she’s chewing.
>OCT: “She is CRAZY determined to make sure those two don’t get laid.”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=idoYCVLh2qI
“A Guy, a Lyre, and a Parkbench”
>This was nice.
>The sheets of the bed you lay in were soft, the light from the morning sun creeping in warming them.
>Then again, the warm body in your arms was also probably responsible for your comfort as well.
>Bon-Bon.
>You let out a content sigh as you run and over the top of her mane, gently rubbing her ear as you do so.
>She lets out a tiny groan as you rouse her from her sleep.
“Sleepy head.”
>”*mumble*”
>She wavers over you, making her way up to where your head is and looks at you with tired, relaxed eyes.
>She cracks a smile and yawns.
>”Good morning.”
“Good morning indeed. You sleep well?”
>”Like a baby. Now if you excuse me, I will continue to do so.”
>With that, she drops her head back down onto your chest and closes her eyes.
>You hold her closer to you, trying to snuggle with her a bit more.
>”You never told me you’d be this… huggy, when we started seeing each other.”
“Is this a problem?”
>She lifts her head, a grin in the corner of her mouth as she cranes her neck out and kisses your nose.
>”Nope.”
>Smiling back at her, you softly kiss her neck, making Bon-Bon exhale a deep sigh as she relaxes further.
“Glad to hear it. So, still tired?”
>”Well… not if you keep doing that..”
>Yeah, this was nice.
>You return your gaze to Bon-Bon’s, her soft blue eyes looking back at you, her mouth hanging open ever so slightly.
>Tracing a finger down her cheek, you bring her closer to you.
>”Anon?”
“Mmhmm?”
>”I… well, I think… I lo-“
>LYRA: “MORNING FUCKERS.”
>And then you and Bon-Bon fall out of bed and onto the cold, wooden floor.
A Few Minutes Later
>You and Bon-Bon sit at the kitchen table, looking over at Lyra and the gang as they practice for the battle of the bands.
>Tonight was the night, the whole shebang.
>The reason you all went to Las Pegasus in the first place.
>To be honest, you were pretty excited to see what Lyra’s band could do. After all, this place was bound to have a lot of decent competition when it came to bands.
>But for now, it seemed like Dr. Whooves was having a mild panic attack.
>You and Bon-Bon sit back, sipping your mugs of coffee as you watch the madness ensue.
>WHO: “Is this mic even working? I swear it’s just making my voice sound like complete shite. Lyra.”
>LYRA: “Yeah?”
>WHO: “My voice doesn’t sound like shite, does it?”
>LYRA: “Oh of course not, sweetheart. Your voice sound just DARLING.”
>OCT: “Not gonna lie, it’s kind shitty.”
>WHO: “Right, both of you can rightly fuck off. Derpy, I’m telling you we NEED you to step it up a notch!”
>DERP: “I’m trying my best!”
>WHO: “Well your best is NOT cutting it! I thought I told you to use more cowbell?”
>DERP: “About that, this song doesn’t use any cowbell, Turner.”
>WHO: “…what did you call me?”
>LYRA: “Wait, wait, you STILL don’t go by your real name?”
>WHO: “Oi! One of my fans called me “The Doctor” one night during a show. I’ve stuck with it ever since!”
>OCT: “We’re getting nowhere with this. Can we just practice now, please?”
>WHO: “But I’m still trying to find out if it’s the microphone that’s causing my voice to sound like shite, or if it’s just me.”
>OCT: “Dude, it’s just you. Now shut up and play.”
>He groans, but gives a que for them to start playing anyway.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iIEF_kUxaqs&feature=related
>You sip some coffee and nod to Bon-Bon.
“So, you think they’ll win?”
>”Meh. Hard to say, but seeing as this is show where anyone can enter, I don’t see why not.”
“…what?”
>”What?”
“Anyone can enter? They didn’t get selected to play at the show?”
>”No, of course not. Whooves just has a lot of connections, that’s all.”
“Wow. I… wow.”
>”It’s not all that bad. The winner does get a money prize, after all.”
“How much?”
>”First place gets ten thousand bits, I believe. Runner up gets maybe a thousand.”
“Damn.”
>You finish your mug, taking it back to the pot in the kitchen and refilling it.
>When you return to Bon-Bon, you have an idea.
“You said second place gets one thousand bits?”
>”Yeah.”
“And wouldn’t you say Lyra’s band is pretty good?”
>”Yup.”
>You nod a few times, trying to get Bon-Bon to catch your drift.
>After a few seconds, her ears perk up.
>”You want to enter?”
>Shrugging, you take a swig of coffee.
>”Do you even know how to play any instruments?”
“Well I can play harmonica pretty well.”
>”We’re not going to get second place at a battle of the bands with a harmonica, Anon.”
“Hm… well Lyra taught me a little bit of guitar here and there. I know some of the basics.”
>Bon-Bon rolls her eyes, returning to watch Lyra’s band practice.
>Yeah, you figured she wouldn’t really go for it.
>Still, it was a thought.
>Suddenly she’s tapping your shoulder.
“What?”
>”You know the basics?”
“…yeah?”
>”That might be good enough for one song.”
“Really?”
>She nods, a tiny smile on her face.
“Alright, what did you have in mind?”
>”Remember that Clopton Tarintino movie, Kill Billygoat?”
“Yeah.”
>…
“Wait… seriously?”
>She nods.
>You know exactly what song she wants to play.
>And it’s a good one at that.
“Hell… why the fuck not? Let’s go practice.”
>The two of you stand, and you and Bon-Bon walk back to Lyra’s room to grab one of her guitars.
>Tonight was looking fun indeed.
>This… was a lot bigger than you thought it would be.
>Turns out the battle of the bands was going to be held in the same theater you saw Trixie’s show in.
>Thankfully, there would be no Trixie this time.
>You stand backstage with the band, as they prepare their instruments for the show.
“When do you guys go on?”
>LYRA: “We go eighth. There’s twelve entries so far, and only twelve entries.”
>OCT: “Good. I’m gonna enjoy watching some poor sap get last place.”
>DERP: “Aw well that’s not very nice, Octavia.”
>OCT: “I haven’t had a drink all day so I could stay sober for this thing. We win that ten grand, and I’m taking my share and drinking myself into a god damn coma.”
>LYRA: “Truly you are the classiest mare in existence. I envy you.”
>OCT: “Oh and what are you gonna do with your share?”
>LYRA: “Easy. I’m going to make and sell lyres back in town.”
“Wait, seriously?”
>LYRA: “Ha! No way, no one in Ponyville plays that thing but me. I was considering setting up a small shop though. Something food related.”
>BON: “So we’d be a house full of employees of the food industry?”
“Seems that way, doesn’t it?”
>You lightly strum the acoustic guitar in your hands, humming out a tune.
>LYRA: “You guys are serious about competing?”
“Yup.”
>LYRA: “When did you two decide this?”
>BON: “Today.”
>LYRA: “Literally today?”
“This morning, in fact. We’re not gonna win, we promise you that, but we’d like to give it a try at least.”
>LYRA: “By all means, be my guest. You two can’t be any worse than that one man band out there right now.”
>The sound of accordions and symbols crashing can be heard from the stage, as well as a fair amount of cursing and booing.
>DERP: “Ugh… polka.”
>LYRA: “That shit is vile.”
>Suddenly the pony playing the polka is run off stage as the booing gets louder.
>Another band, a group of ponies dressed all in black, steps up to the stage and readies their equipment.
>Whooves gives a groan
>WHO: “Oh god not them…”
>LYRA: “Them?”
>WHO: “Them! The next band! They’re miles ahead of us when it comes to talent!”
>OCT: “Look like a bunch of fags if you ask me.”
>The lead singer in the band steps up to his mic, and clears his throat.
>”This song is called, “I’m Sad, so Very, Very Sad.”
>That was a song title?
>Well apparently it was, as the band starts to play a very, VERY loud song that-
>It stopped.
>Was… was that song only three seconds long?
>WHO: “We’re screwed. That was AMAZING.”
>Octavia pokes her head out from the curtains.
>OCT: “WHAT A BUNCH OF FAGS.”
>The band on stage glares at Octavia, and then announces while still staring at her:
>”Thank you. This next song is called, “We Hate You, Please Die.”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o7PKAnaHlis&feature=relmfu
>WHO: “How are we supposed to follow this?!”
>LYRA: “Whooves, it’s not that good. I’m sure we can.”
>WHO: “ Goddammit Lyra would you top standing there you are FREAKING me out.”
>DERP: “They know it’s not a race, right?.. right?”
>Whooves is hyperventilating at this point.
>WHO: “We’re going to lose! We should never have come to this city, I swear I was out of my mind when I agreed to-“
>OCT: “Hey! HEY! SNAP OUT OF IT.”
>She cracks a hoof across his face, causing him to tense up.
>…
>WHO: “Thanks. Thanks, I needed that.”
>LYRA: “Can… can we just go play our music now?... please?”
>Whooves nods, and the band on stage leaves after promptly giving the crowd the pony equivalent of “the finger.”
>As they set up, you park your butt next to Bon-Bon and peer out onto the stage.
“Think they have a chance?”
>She smirks.
>”Absolutely.”
>And then, they start to play.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3AirZDtIMTM&feature=relmfu
>Wow.
>They were good.
>Damn good, even.
>As Lyra and the gang play, a pony behind you taps you on the shoulder.
>He was one of the stage crew, from what you gathered.
>”You’re up next, kid.”
>You nod, pick up your guitar and look to Bon-Bon.
>She returns a smile to you and a wink as well, as you both step behind the main curtains, and you take a seat on a small stool.
>Once Lyra’s band stops, the crowd breaks out into cheer, and you hear them shuffle off stage right.
>A few seconds pass, and the curtains open.
>You’re faced by hundreds of watching eyes, as you glance over to Bon-Bon.
“Ready Bonnie?”
>”Hit me.”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dSxqLjwHtyY&t=0m30s
>And as you played next to Bon-Bon, her voice echoing softly through the hall, you knew that you made the right decision.
>This mare was yours, and you were hers.
>You’d have it no other way.
~THE END~

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>WHO: “Alright, let’s go over this ONE more time. Lyra, you’re not keeping up with me when I’m singing, pick up the pace on the backup vocals and TRY not to break the strings on your guitar this time.”
>LYRA: “Got it.”
>WHO: “Octavia, you need to-“
>OCT: “Fuck off.”
>WHO: “…right then. Derpy?”
>DERP: “Yup!”
>WHO: “I’m gonna need more cowbell.”
>DERP: “On it!”
>WHO: “Right, well, let’s start this up again shall we? On my count. Three.”
>LYRA: “Hey Octavia, where are Anon and Bon-Bon?”
>WHO: “Two.”
>OCT: “I think they’re still in bed, Lyra.”
>WHO: “One.”
>As Whooves begins to sing into the microphone, Lyra drops her guitar and makes a mad dash to the door.
>WHO: “Oh for the love of- JUST LEAVE THEM BE! We need to practice for the show tonight!”
>LYRA: “Sorry guys, I just need to make a quick stop!”
>Whooves groans in frustration, while Octavia blows a bubble on the gum she’s chewing.
>OCT: “She is CRAZY determined to make sure those two don’t get laid.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=idoYCVLh2qI

“A Guy, a Lyre, and a Parkbench”

>This was nice.
>The sheets of the bed you lay in were soft, the light from the morning sun creeping in warming them.
>Then again, the warm body in your arms was also probably responsible for your comfort as well.
>Bon-Bon.
>You let out a content sigh as you run and over the top of her mane, gently rubbing her ear as you do so.
>She lets out a tiny groan as you rouse her from her sleep.
“Sleepy head.”
>”*mumble*”
>She wavers over you, making her way up to where your head is and looks at you with tired, relaxed eyes.
>She cracks a smile and yawns.
>”Good morning.”
“Good morning indeed. You sleep well?”
>”Like a baby. Now if you excuse me, I will continue to do so.”
>With that, she drops her head back down onto your chest and closes her eyes.
>You hold her closer to you, trying to snuggle with her a bit more.
>”You never told me you’d be this… huggy, when we started seeing each other.”
“Is this a problem?”
>She lifts her head, a grin in the corner of her mouth as she cranes her neck out and kisses your nose.
>”Nope.”
>Smiling back at her, you softly kiss her neck, making Bon-Bon exhale a deep sigh as she relaxes further.
“Glad to hear it. So, still tired?”
>”Well… not if you keep doing that..”
>Yeah, this was nice.
>You return your gaze to Bon-Bon’s, her soft blue eyes looking back at you, her mouth hanging open ever so slightly.
>Tracing a finger down her cheek, you bring her closer to you.
>”Anon?”
“Mmhmm?”
>”I… well, I think… I lo-“
>LYRA: “MORNING FUCKERS.”
>And then you and Bon-Bon fall out of bed and onto the cold, wooden floor.

A Few Minutes Later

>You and Bon-Bon sit at the kitchen table, looking over at Lyra and the gang as they practice for the battle of the bands.
>Tonight was the night, the whole shebang.
>The reason you all went to Las Pegasus in the first place.
>To be honest, you were pretty excited to see what Lyra’s band could do. After all, this place was bound to have a lot of decent competition when it came to bands.
>But for now, it seemed like Dr. Whooves was having a mild panic attack.
>You and Bon-Bon sit back, sipping your mugs of coffee as you watch the madness ensue.
>WHO: “Is this mic even working? I swear it’s just making my voice sound like complete shite. Lyra.”
>LYRA: “Yeah?”
>WHO: “My voice doesn’t sound like shite, does it?”
>LYRA: “Oh of course not, sweetheart. Your voice sound just DARLING.”
>OCT: “Not gonna lie, it’s kind shitty.”
>WHO: “Right, both of you can rightly fuck off. Derpy, I’m telling you we NEED you to step it up a notch!”
>DERP: “I’m trying my best!”
>WHO: “Well your best is NOT cutting it! I thought I told you to use more cowbell?”
>DERP: “About that, this song doesn’t use any cowbell, Turner.”
>WHO: “…what did you call me?”
>LYRA: “Wait, wait, you STILL don’t go by your real name?”
>WHO: “Oi! One of my fans called me “The Doctor” one night during a show. I’ve stuck with it ever since!”
>OCT: “We’re getting nowhere with this. Can we just practice now, please?”
>WHO: “But I’m still trying to find out if it’s the microphone that’s causing my voice to sound like shite, or if it’s just me.”
>OCT: “Dude, it’s just you. Now shut up and play.”
>He groans, but gives a que for them to start playing anyway.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iIEF_kUxaqs&feature=related

>You sip some coffee and nod to Bon-Bon.
“So, you think they’ll win?”
>”Meh. Hard to say, but seeing as this is show where anyone can enter, I don’t see why not.”
“…what?”
>”What?”
“Anyone can enter? They didn’t get selected to play at the show?”
>”No, of course not. Whooves just has a lot of connections, that’s all.”
“Wow. I… wow.”
>”It’s not all that bad. The winner does get a money prize, after all.”
“How much?”
>”First place gets ten thousand bits, I believe. Runner up gets maybe a thousand.”
“Damn.”
>You finish your mug, taking it back to the pot in the kitchen and refilling it.
>When you return to Bon-Bon, you have an idea.
“You said second place gets one thousand bits?”
>”Yeah.”
“And wouldn’t you say Lyra’s band is pretty good?”
>”Yup.”
>You nod a few times, trying to get Bon-Bon to catch your drift.
>After a few seconds, her ears perk up.
>”You want to enter?”
>Shrugging, you take a swig of coffee.
>”Do you even know how to play any instruments?”
“Well I can play harmonica pretty well.”
>”We’re not going to get second place at a battle of the bands with a harmonica, Anon.”
“Hm… well Lyra taught me a little bit of guitar here and there. I know some of the basics.”
>Bon-Bon rolls her eyes, returning to watch Lyra’s band practice.
>Yeah, you figured she wouldn’t really go for it.
>Still, it was a thought.
>Suddenly she’s tapping your shoulder.
“What?”
>”You know the basics?”
“…yeah?”
>”That might be good enough for one song.”
“Really?”
>She nods, a tiny smile on her face.
“Alright, what did you have in mind?”
>”Remember that Clopton Tarintino movie, Kill Billygoat?”
“Yeah.”
>…
“Wait… seriously?”
>She nods.
>You know exactly what song she wants to play.
>And it’s a good one at that.
“Hell… why the fuck not? Let’s go practice.”
>The two of you stand, and you and Bon-Bon walk back to Lyra’s room to grab one of her guitars.
>Tonight was looking fun indeed.

>This… was a lot bigger than you thought it would be.
>Turns out the battle of the bands was going to be held in the same theater you saw Trixie’s show in.
>Thankfully, there would be no Trixie this time.
>You stand backstage with the band, as they prepare their instruments for the show.
“When do you guys go on?”
>LYRA: “We go eighth. There’s twelve entries so far, and only twelve entries.”
>OCT: “Good. I’m gonna enjoy watching some poor sap get last place.”
>DERP: “Aw well that’s not very nice, Octavia.”
>OCT: “I haven’t had a drink all day so I could stay sober for this thing. We win that ten grand, and I’m taking my share and drinking myself into a god damn coma.”
>LYRA: “Truly you are the classiest mare in existence. I envy you.”
>OCT: “Oh and what are you gonna do with your share?”
>LYRA: “Easy. I’m going to make and sell lyres back in town.”
“Wait, seriously?”
>LYRA: “Ha! No way, no one in Ponyville plays that thing but me. I was considering setting up a small shop though. Something food related.”
>BON: “So we’d be a house full of employees of the food industry?”
“Seems that way, doesn’t it?”
>You lightly strum the acoustic guitar in your hands, humming out a tune.
>LYRA: “You guys are serious about competing?”
“Yup.”
>LYRA: “When did you two decide this?”
>BON: “Today.”
>LYRA: “Literally today?”
“This morning, in fact. We’re not gonna win, we promise you that, but we’d like to give it a try at least.”
>LYRA: “By all means, be my guest. You two can’t be any worse than that one man band out there right now.”
>The sound of accordions and symbols crashing can be heard from the stage, as well as a fair amount of cursing and booing.
>DERP: “Ugh… polka.”
>LYRA: “That shit is vile.”
>Suddenly the pony playing the polka is run off stage as the booing gets louder.
>Another band, a group of ponies dressed all in black, steps up to the stage and readies their equipment.
>Whooves gives a groan
>WHO: “Oh god not them…”
>LYRA: “Them?”
>WHO: “Them! The next band! They’re miles ahead of us when it comes to talent!”
>OCT: “Look like a bunch of fags if you ask me.”
>The lead singer in the band steps up to his mic, and clears his throat.
>”This song is called, “I’m Sad,  so Very, Very Sad.”
>That was a song title?
>Well apparently it was, as the band starts to play a very, VERY loud song that-
>It stopped.
>Was… was that song only three seconds long?
>WHO: “We’re screwed. That was AMAZING.”
>Octavia pokes her head out from the curtains.
>OCT: “WHAT A BUNCH OF FAGS.”
>The band on stage glares at Octavia, and then announces while still staring at her:
>”Thank you. This next song is called, “We Hate You, Please Die.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o7PKAnaHlis&feature=relmfu

>WHO: “How are we supposed to follow this?!”
>LYRA: “Whooves, it’s not that good. I’m sure we can.”
>WHO: “ Goddammit Lyra would you top standing there you are FREAKING me out.”
>DERP: “They know it’s not a race, right?.. right?”
>Whooves is hyperventilating at this point.
>WHO: “We’re going to lose! We should never have come to this city, I swear I was out of my mind when I agreed to-“
>OCT: “Hey! HEY! SNAP OUT OF IT.”
>She cracks a hoof across his face, causing him to tense up.
>…
>WHO: “Thanks. Thanks, I needed that.”
>LYRA: “Can… can we just go play our music now?... please?”
>Whooves nods, and the band on stage leaves after promptly giving the crowd the pony equivalent of “the finger.”
>As they set up, you park your butt next to Bon-Bon and peer out onto the stage.
“Think they have a chance?”
>She smirks.
>”Absolutely.”
>And then, they start to play.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3AirZDtIMTM&feature=relmfu

>Wow.
>They were good.
>Damn good, even.
>As Lyra and the gang play, a pony behind you taps you on the shoulder.
>He was one of the stage crew, from what you gathered.
>”You’re up next, kid.”
>You nod, pick up your guitar and look to Bon-Bon.
>She returns a smile to you and a wink as well, as you both step behind the main curtains, and you take a seat on a small stool.
>Once Lyra’s band stops, the crowd breaks out into cheer, and you hear them shuffle off stage right.
>A few seconds pass, and the curtains open.
>You’re faced by hundreds of watching eyes, as you glance over to Bon-Bon.
“Ready Bonnie?”
>”Hit me.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dSxqLjwHtyY&t=0m30s

>And as you played next to Bon-Bon, her voice echoing softly through the hall, you knew that you made the right decision.
>This mare was yours, and you were hers.
>You’d have it no other way.

~THE END~

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