>Two hours later, you find yourself next to Vinyl in a taxi, weaving through traffic along some all-too-familiar roads
>"Yo, 'Tavius," Vinyl mumbles, turning towards you
"Wuzzat, mate?"
>"Thanks. You know, for tonight," she says, smiling softly. "It was nice catching up with you again."
"Yeah, it was... I'm just sorry everything had to go bloody-well pear-shaped."
>"Dude," Vinyl counters sharply, "I already told you to stop beating yourself up over that."
"But-"
>"Shit happens, 'Tavius," she continues, cutting you off. "And you just gotta roll with it sometimes, you know?"
>You silence yourself for a few seconds, taking in Vinyl's words before nodding solemnly
"Too right, mate. Too right..."
>At that moment, the taxi comes to a stop just outside of Vinyl's place
>"That will be of ten bits, pretty mare pony." The strangely-accented stallion grins, turning his head slightly. "You are of having bits, yes?"
>Vinyl's horn glows in response, levitating a bag of coins towards him. "Here you go, dude," she chimes as she steps out of the cart
>She takes a few steps towards her home before freezing her tracks
>Craning her head around, she gives you a quizzical look. "You're not coming, 'Tavius?"
"You what, mate?"
 
>"Come on, dude," she says, gesturing up towards the moon. "The night's still young!"
"Young?"
>Scoffing at the suggestion, you pull out a pocket watch to emphasise your point
"It's feckin' eleven bong!"
>"Exactly!" Your friend grins maniacally as she takes a step back towards you. "That's like, 3 or 4 hours until bedtime!"
"Four hours...?"
>Your eye twitches in disbelief as you feel your jaw go slack
"You're friggin' insane, y'know that, you silly twit?"
>Frowning, Vinyl pouts at you, her magenta eyes glimmering in the moonlight
>"Come on, 'Tavius," she pleads, her lower lip quivering. "Please?"
>Between the pathetic look on her face, and the knowledge you don't really have any big gigs, sessions or interviews tomorrow, you put your watch away as you relent
"Alright, Vinyl... You win."
>Instantly, her face lights up, her crocodile tears vanishing without a trace
>"Awesome," she cheers, pumping a hoof into the air. "I'll get started on the popcorn!"
>Suppressing a snicker at Vinyl's antics, you cast a glance back towards your driver as you pull out a bag of ten bits
"Oi, mate. Here's m'dosh."
>The stallion catches the sack deftly with his teeth as you toss it towards him, bowing politely afterwards. "Chen-kwee."
"Cheers."
 
===
 
>A minute later, you're tentatively pushing the front door of Vinyl's house open, stepping inside
>"Hey 'Tavius," Vinyl calls from the kitchen, "you wanna turn on some music and set up the projector while I get the snacks in order? It'll be about ten or fifteen minutes."
"Alright, mate. On it."
>You trot over towards the record player set up in the corner of the living room, noting the vast library of albums and singles in the shelves beside it
"Uh... Anythin' in particular you're in the mood for, Vinyl?"
>"I dunno, dude," she calls back, her voice sounding preoccupied. "Anything with a lotta bass!"
"Bass... righto."
>You scan the shelves for something that seems like it might be what Vinyl's after
>However, you're not exactly sure what to be looking for, given that most of these band and album names are totally alien to you
>Nevertheless, after a few more seconds, a plain white-and-blue album cover catches your eye
"Equestria2, Low Frequency Edition... Might work."
>Retrieving the record, you carefully place it on the turntable before lowering the needle into place
>The moment you push down the play button, however, you feel the floorboards begin to shake
[spoiler]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p34zA9wTRig[/spoiler]
>The bass, unrelenting in its intensity, seems to drone on into eternity
>You discern the faintest echoes of a backup guitar and drums sound off behind the veil of feedback as you continue to listen,
>Even though you can barely even bring yourself to call this 'music', you nevertheless feel yourself drifting away on the contrabass waves, the tension in your body dissolving into nothingness
>"Holy shit, dude," Vinyl shouts above the droning as she enters the room. "I didn't mean -that- much bass!"
>Your friend approaches the turntable, reaching out a hoof towards the stop button
>Without even looking, however, you stretch out your own hoof to stop her
 
"Hold on, mate... I reckon it's gettin' to the good part..."
>"Sweet Celestia, and you're calling -me- the crazy one?"
>Vinyl's features contort into an expression of pure shock as you continue to stare into space
>"How in Tartarus are -you- liking this, 'Tavius? It's... gah!" A fuse seems to blow in Vinyl's brain as she tries to process the situation
>Given what she knows about your taste in music, you can't exactly blame her
>You reach out towards the turntable, turning down the volume a bit to give your and Vinyl's voices a break
>Afterward,s you slowly turn to face her, idly scratching the back of your head with a hoof
"It... well, it sorta reminds me of an ol' string ensemble I used t'play with yonks back."
>"String ensemble? Like, an orchestra?" Vinyl raises an eyebrow at you, deeply skeptical. "What kind of orchestra plays music like this?!"
"Well, that the thing. They didn't exactly -mean- t'play it like this."
>You can't help but smirk as you recall the story
"The ensemble, well, it had an octobassist in it. And some other silly sod in the band got the brilliant idea of doin' up the poor bastard's octobass with pickups and an amp b'fore the performance. You know, just t'have a bit of a giggle."
>You let loose a few chortles before doing your best to calm yourself down, allowing you to continue with your anecdote
"And bloody hell, when that bow hit the strings...!"
>As you lose yourself to your own laughter, Vinyl merely tilts her head at you, puzzled. "Wait... Dude," she asks, her voice genuinely curious, "what's an octobass?"
 
>You clear your throat, regaining your composure
"Oh. Well, hm..."
>Pressing a hoof against your chin, you think of a way to explain the concept
"Well, y'know how the cello's bigger than the violin, and the double bass's even bigger than the cello?"
>Vinyl nods slowly as you speak. "Yeah...?"
"Well, the octobass is the biggest viol of 'em all."
>Rearing up onto your hindlegs, you stretch out your hooves to try and illustrate the size
"It's a bloody whopper. We're talkin' eleven feckin' feet from scroll to tail, mind."
>"Eleven feet...?" For a second, your friend seems completely stunned. However, the echo of laughter soon replaces shocked silence. "Good one, dude. But there's no way anypony would make an instrument -that- big."
>She pauses, reconsidering her last statement
>"Well, not a -real- one. Maaaaybe one of those weird novelty ones they make to get one of those Gui-neighs World Records," Vinyl suggests. "Like that twenty-foot guitar my sister made last year," she adds, staring wistfully off into space. "Man, that thing was cool..."
"Nah, mate, this is a fair dinkum bit of orchestral hardware we're talkin' about here. Bloody brilliant for those low backin' tones."
>Vinyl shrugs. "Still think you're yanking my chain, dude," she retorts, shaking her head
"Maybe I'll just have t'prove it to you some time, mate."
>Knowing you have the way to do just that, a smirk crosses your lips
"Seein' is believin', as they say..."
>"Pfft. Whatever, dude," Vinyl says, turning back towards the kitchen. "Anyway, I gotta get these snacks happening."
"Righto. Guess I'll, uh, go do up the projector, then."
 
>Several minutes later, you're carefully fitting a film reel into Vinyl's movie projector
>Though it's an older model than the one you have at your own home, its layout is far from unfamiliar
>As you're about to start weaving the tape back and forth through the projector's mechanisms, Vinyl enters
>"Delivery," she chimes, placing a large bowl of popcorn and a pack of potato crisps onto the table beside you
"Cheers, mate."
>"No problem."
>She starts to trot back towards the kitchen when she suddenly stops herself
>"Hey, 'Tavius," she asks, "want a drink?"
>Looking up from the projector's mechanisms, you consider the offer for a moment
"Yeah, sure. Got any tea?"
>Your friend blinks at you, nonplussed. "Dude," she says, "we already had dinner."
>Immediately, you slam your face into your right hoof, grumbling
"Ugh... Not that kind of-"
>"I know," Vinyl explains, barely able to stop herself from laughing her ass off. "I'm just screwing with you. Lighten up!"
>You sigh deeply before having a bit of a giggle yourself
"Alright... fair 'nuff. Still, y'got any?"
>"I think I have a few bags somewhere, yeah. Lemme check."
"Brilliant. Thanks, mate."
 
>The clatter of glasses, spoons and mugs echo out of the kitchen as you continue your work
>Swiftly, you loop the tape back and forth across the gears, making sure the teeth mesh perfectly with the tape's holes as you go
>With the tape in place and the various brass tabs clicked down into position, you proceed to hook the tape up to the empty spool before tightening the whole assembly manually
>Aiming the projector at the featureless wall in front of the couch, you push the device's on button
>However, instead of the characteristic whir of the projector's internal motor, a deafening silence greets you
>Frustrated, you furrow your brow as you look the device over in an attempt to find the problem
>After a few moments, your eyes wander along the length of the power cable, only to find it unplugged
"Ah. That'd explain it."
>"Explain what," a familiar voice asks, giving you a start
"Oh fuck. Vinyl, mate, don't sneak up on me like that."
>"Sorry, 'Tavius. Didn't mean to scare ya," she apologises, levitating a tall glass of orange juice and a steaming hot mug of tea in front of herself. "Just wanted to give you this."
>Calming yourself, you plug the projector in before reaching torwards Vinyl, slipping a hoof through the handle of the mug she's brought you
"It's alright. Cheers."
>Blowing across the surface of the liquid, you take a tiny sip
>"So, how is it?"
>You smack your lips audibly, taking in the taste
>Between the distinct aroma and the weak taste of the tea itself, you figure that it's most likely Mare Grey
>Oversugared Mare Grey, at that, with far too much milk for your taste
>Really, you think, it's a shame this isn't Neighssam Bold you're drinking
>At least that would be strong enough to balance this saccharine overload
>Still, a cuppa is a cuppa
>And maybe a little extra sweetness is what you need, given everything that's happened tonight
"It's... bloody fab. Thanks."
 
>"Glad you like it."
>She smiles softly at you before ambling over to the couch, planting herself on the cushions
>"So dude," she asks, glancing at you from the corner of her eye, "you get the movie set up okay?"
"Yeah, she should be right now."
>Again, you tap the projector's on button
>This time, however, the device actually comes to life
>Its motor whirs quietly, drawing the film across the projector lamp
>Sitting down next to your friend, you look over to her
>You watch as her horn flares with energy, dimming the lights and silencing the record player
>"Hey, what movie did you pick, anyway?"
"Lord of the Horseshoes. Been meanin' t'see it. Heard the critics were all sayin' it's bloody brilliant."
>"Oh?" Vinyl raises an eyebrow at you. "Did they mention it's like a billion hours long while they were at it?"
>You merely shrug in response before giving your friend a smirk
"Mate, I thought you said th'night was young."
>"Eh, whatevs." Turning back towards the screen as the counter ticks down, Vinyl kicks back and relaxes. "Anyway, movie's starting."
[spoiler]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MQIfvrGUt_U[/spoiler]
>You nod silently, taking another sip of your tea as the countdown hits zero
 
>Together with Vinyl, you watch as the narrator begins to explain the backstory
>How the three races - the wise Centaurs, the industrious Satyrs and, of course, the mighty Horses - were gifted Horseshoes of Power to help them rule
>And how Zigur forged a Master Horseshoe, the One Shoe, to let him control these other Shoebearers and thus everything in Middle-Equestria, only to be foiled by a coalition of the races led by the great Horse Alicorn King
"Hey, Vinyl..."
>"Yeah, 'Tavius?" Your friend turns her head towards you while continuing to watch the screen from the corner of her eye. "What's up?"
"Why d'you think Artemis and Celestia don't call 'emselves King and Queen, anyway? I mean, really, who'd stop 'em if they did?"
>Vinyl shrugs indifferently. "I dunno, dude. Probably some bullshit royal protocol thing."
"Eh, prob'ly."
>Turning back to watch the movie, you listen as the narrator explains how the One Shoe was forgotten by time, before letting itself be found - and lost - by a strange, pitiful creature
>"But something happened then the Shoe did not intend," the narrator added, the video showing the mystical artifact tumbling down a slope. "It was picked up by the most unlikely creature imaginable. A pony - Pocket Line of the Ville."
>A tiny caramel-coated Unicorn stallion emerges onto the scene, his face clearly wracked by his own nerves
>Discovering the One Shoe in the muck and grime of the cave, he furtively slips it into his coat as the wails of its previous owner echo throughout the underground
>"For a time will soon come when Ponies will shape the fortunes of all..."
>The scene fades out, revealing a peaceful pony village many years in the future
 
[spoiler]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pGaz_qN0cw[/spoiler]
>A curly-maned mare sits sprawled-out beneath a tree, a good book in one hoof and a pipe in the other
>Both of these, however, find themselves abandoned in short order as the mare excitedly rushes off to investigate a strange voice speaking in rhyme
>She finds the source soon after - an elderly zebra towing a wooden cart filled with all sorts of weird and wonderful-looking goods
>"You're late," she chides, sporting a smug grin
>Calmly, the old zebra looks over towards his tiny accuser. "A wizard is never late, Pocket Burn; this is a lesson you shall soon learn. Yet we are never early either, you see; we arrive exactly when we mean to, my dear filly."
>After a brief silence, the two break into laughter before embracing like old friends
>Meanwhile, Vinyl can barely stifle her groans as she cringes at the scene
"Somethin' wrong, mate?"
>"It's just..." Vinyl presses a hoof to her forehead in frustration, grumbling. "Why do movie writers have to be so shitty at rhyming?"
"Shit at rhymin'?"
>You look over towards her, your nonplussed expression half-hidden as you take another sip of your tea
"That rhyme seemed pretty pukka to me, mate."
>"It was lazy, dude," your friend counters, irate. "No two ways about it. They just tacked little things like 'you see' and 'my filly' on the end when they couldn't think of any -real- rhymes!"
"And... you reckon you could do 'em one better than that?"
>"Watch me."
 
>Dramatically, Vinyl cracks her neck and clears her throat before taking in a deep breath
>"I'm Stormcrow the Grey, savanna wizard of the South,
>"Now, my dear filly, you had best watch your mouth,
>"For you may claim I'm late to your uncle's party,
>"But mark my words, no wizard's ever tardy,
>"Yet it's true that we never come 'round early either,
>"We arrive right when needed, so rate me not a deceiver."
>As Vinyl finishes her impromptu rhyme, you stare at her in disbelief
>Then, slowly, a grin spreads across your face as you clap your hooves a few times, genuinely impressed
"That... was brilliant."
>Vinyl shrugs at you, indifferent. "Nah, it wasn't that great," she insists. "I mean, I kinda rapped myself into a corner with 'either' there. Aren't exactly that many words that rhyme wi-"
"It was fine, mate. Seriously."
>Silenced by your interruption, your friend nods
>"...thanks," she finally murmurs before turning her attention back to the movie
>You do likewise, just in time to catch Stormcrow greeting a noticably older Pocket Line before smacking his head into the pony's undersized doorway
 
>The movie trundles on, making a point of showing the power the One Shoe can exert over even the nicest of creatures and demonstrating the need to have it dealt with
>A need whose fulfillment ultimately seems to lie with Pocket Burn
>As she and her pony friend, Stout Heart, make their way out of the Ville to seek safety from the Shoewraiths, however, you begin to feel your eyes grow heavy
>Though you do your best to keep alert and pay attention, you start to find the events in the film blending into an indistinct mass in your mind
>Before you know it, you see Pocket Burn awakening in Clovalley, sanctuary of the Centaurs, after a much-too-close call with the Shoewraiths
>Once Stormcrow explains the situation to her, you hear the distinct sound of hoofsteps upon a hard floor
>"Burnie!" A grey pony stallion sporting a firey orange mane bursts into the room, rushing to the mare's side. "Thank Elysium, Burnie, you're awake!"
>"Stout!" The two friends lock hooves, smiling broadly at one-another
>"Oh, Burnie," Stout Heart says, "we were so worried about you. Weren't we, Mister Stormcrow?"
>You start to feel a hint of moisture building in your eyes as you realise that it's a scene all too familiar to you
>At that moment, you feel Vinyl's hoof pressing against yours
>You hook your own around hers in response, holding it in much the same fashion as the two ponies now on-screen
>"Thanks... 'Tavius," she mumbles, managing a tired smile
>Doing your best to blink away your tear, you look over towards your friend
"Anytime, mate."
>After a few seconds, the two of you pull your hooves away, returning your attention to the film as if nothing had happened
>With the action in the movie calming down for now, you decide to just briefly rest your eyes...
 
===
 
>After what seems like just a few seconds, you open your eyes
>The projector's lamp now illuminates a blank screen as its motor continues to whir, the loose end of the now-finished film slapping repeatedly against the machine
>Quickly figuring that you must have dozed off, you move to get up and turn the projector off when you notice something pinning you in place
>Or rather, somepony
>Vinyl snores softly as she rests her head upon your lap, her forelegs draped loosely around you
>Not wishing to disturb her, you stop yourself
>Carefully, you instead opt to stretch your hoof out behind you, barely managing to reach the projector's off switch
>You flick it, shutting the machine down in an instant and plunging Vinyl's living room into total darkness
>With that taken care of, you settle back down on the couch, surrendering to sleep once more