“‒ and that’s how I ended up in the middle of the sanctuary with my pants around my ankles, huddling under the preacher’s robes to protect my modesty.” A sly smile slid onto my face as I unloaded the punchline: ”You could say that I gave a new meaning to the phrase ants in the pants.”

Raindrops, who had her face buried in a hoof, was the first to respond. “You do know that fire ants are rather aggressive when their mounds are disturbed, right?”

“Of course I do,” I retorted, my indignation only partly feigned. “But my parents were taking too long talking with their friends, and I was bored.”

“Boredom is no excuse for doing something that you know is stupid!” Raindrops countered, gesticulating wildly with a hoof.

“Hey, you wanted amusing and highly embarrassing stories from my world. Don’t complain to me when I give you what you asked for,” I finished with a huff.

A few hours had passed since I first sat down with Raindrops, Lyra, and their friends. I had long since polished off my plate of food, and was now well into a pint of regular cider. I noted with approval that the grumpy bear of a pegasus shared my preference for alcoholic beverages. Lyra’s choice of drink ‒ water ‒ seemed a bit unusual. However, I figured that either she wasn’t much of a drinker to begin with, or there was a particular reason why she chose to abstain from intoxicating beverages. Either way, I wasn’t inclined to pry.

One other interesting thing I noticed was the interaction between Bon Bon and Azure Dreams ‒ mostly of the nonverbal variety. The two seemed to be dancing around each other quite a bit. For his part, Azure kept glancing at Bon Bon in a manner that was half deathly fear, and half undisguised adoration. Whenever Bon Bon deigned to notice him, however, it was with a mixture of amusement and revulsion. I couldn’t put my finger on it for certain, but there seemed to be a certain amount of belligerent sexual tension between the two.

For some reason, the thought made me shudder in pained sympathy for poor Azure.

Thanks to the encouragement of my new “friends,” along with my steadily increasing state of inebriation, I had spent the last little while regaling them with tales of Earth. For some reason, they seemed to have a particular fascination with my more embarrassing moments from when I was a child. There didn’t seem to be any malice in the requests, though. If anything, they tended to regard such anecdotes as endearing, or as Lyra had referred to them: “cute.”

“There is one thing that I don’t understand, Derren,” Flitter said, defusing the tension between Raindrops and me. “Why do humans wear clothes all the time? I mean, you’re even wearing a different outfit to this party than you had on at the welcome ceremony. It just doesn’t seem all that practical to me.”

“Didn’t Princess Celestia explain it to you?” I asked. My speech was slightly slurred due to the heavy buzz I had carefully cultivated throughout the night.

Flitter shook her head. “All she said was that you had a nudity taboo for some reason, but she didn’t say why.”

I blinked a few times in a vain effort to clear my head and process what she’d said. “Ah,” I said at last. “Well, there’s two main reasons for it. The first is the fact that, unlike you ponies, evolution didn’t grace us with a fur coat to keep the weather at bay.”

“And the other reason?” Cloudchaser prompted.

I was about to respond when a heavy mass suddenly collapsed onto me, nearly crushing me between it and the table. From the way it had glommed onto my back, I could reasonably surmise that it was probably a pony ‒ a speculation that was confirmed moments later as the mass began to sing in Pinkie’s voice:

A poofy pink mane descended into my view from above as Pinkie lowered herself to the floor. Her hooves still had me locked in their death grip, however.

I buried my face in a palm and let out an irritated groan before muttering, “Goddammit, Pinkie Pie!”

“Oh, hey there, Pinkie Pie,” Bon Bon said amicably, “What’re you doing here?”

Mercifully, Pinkie managed to let go of me to answer Bon Bon’s question. “Oh, just reminding you guys that it’s last call before everypony goes outside for karaoke and the countdown to midnight!”

“Thanks, Pinkie,” Flitter said with a slight smile. “We’ll be right there.”

“Okie dokie lokie,” Pinkie chirped. “Oh, and Der-bear, don’t forget your coat before you go out. It’s cold out there, after all.” With that, she handed me my trench coat. In the blink of an eye, she was gone again.

When I turned back to the other ponies at the table, Raindrops was wearing a smug smile. “Let me guess,” she said, her voice oozing an arch tone, “When Twilight and her friends asked you about your need to go around clothed all the time, you tried to be cute by responding with that song, and Pinkie picked up on it somehow?”

I let out an exasperated sigh before nodding. “Got it in one, Raindrops.”

This led the group to start laughing at my expense. I held up a hand to silence them.

“Let’s be fair about this,” I added defensively, “I’d only known Pinkie for all of about an hour at the time. I didn’t expect her to be so…” I trailed off, struggling to put Pinkie’s personality into words.

“...Pinkie Pie?” Bon Bon helpfully provided, a knowing smirk dawning on her muzzle as well.

I rolled my eyes. “For lack of a better term, yes.”

The laughter resumed once more, but it somehow felt more sympathetic than the previous round.

“Don’t fret, sug,” Sea Swirl replied, reaching across the table to offer a comforting hoof. “We’ve all been caught up in quite a fais do-do by Pinkie at some time or another. In a way, it’s part of her charm.”

“Sorta like a Maredi Gras favor among us Ponyvillians,” Azure added. “If ya haven’t died of embarrassment because of her antics, it don’ madda.”

Swayed by the bright faces and encouraging smiles, a wan smile willed its way onto my own features. “Thanks, everyone,” I said with a half-hearted chuckle, “That’s actually kind of reassuring, in an odd sort of way.”

My companions chimed in as one: “That’s Pinkie Pie for you!”

They then descended into hearty, companionable laughter, which I found myself helpless to resist joining in on. As we settled down, I noticed a disturbing emptiness in my pint glass.

“Well, as fun as this has been so far, I think I’m going to take advantage of last call here,” I said, waving the glass in the air for emphasis. Slipping on my trench coat, I rose to my feet with only a little wobbliness. My first step away from the table, however, had a bit more sway to it than anticipated, prompting Lyra to call out in concern.

“Are you sure you haven’t had enough to drink?” she asked.

I waved her off. “Being drinking buddies with a griffon tends to teach you your alcohol tolerance limits pretty quickly. I should be good for one more round.”

Looking back, I could see doubt clearly written on her muzzle. The others, however, were muttering amongst themselves about the revelation that I was on good terms with a griffon.

“Look, Lyra,” I said softly, “I’ll try to be careful. I don’t plan on getting rip-roaring drunk, but I’ve got friends who will take care of me if I do.” A warm feeling settled in my gut as I said that.

My response seemed to settle the mare enough to where she allowed a small smile to work its way onto her muzzle. After a long moment, she slowly nodded, as if giving me permission to cut loose.

One concession stand still seemed to be operational at this late hour, and it was manned by a rather substantial-looking red stallion. Like Nurse Faran, he seemed like he could just about look me straight in the eye. By the time I made my way over to him, I was pretty certain I could fake sobriety well enough to pass a field test, even one that was improvised to include ballet maneuvers.

At my approach, he regarded me with narrowed eyes, and I could feel my bravado beginning to falter. Somehow, I managed to gather up a second dose of courage to sidle up to his stand.

He took a long moment to size me up. I gazed right back into his sap green eyes. If this was a test of wills, I wasn’t going to back down. I was going to prove I was sober enough for one more round if it was the last thing I did.

Evidently, I passed his silent test, as his facial expression relaxed into a more genial one. “Alright then,” he said with a familiar drawl, “I suppose I can let ya have one more.”

I silently exulted.

He took the glass from me and poured the rainbow-hued libation into a smaller plastic “to-go” cup. “But it’ll have to be a small one. Applejack’d have my hide if you wound up in the drunk tank or worse on accounta me.”

I felt a twinge of disappointment, but merely nodded. “Fair enough.” After a long pause, I added, “So, Applejack’s your‒”

“‒Sister.”

“Ah. You must be the ‘Big Mac’ she was telling me about.”

“Eeyup,” was all he said.

I took a moment to appraise him critically. “You don’t say much, do you?”

“Eenope.”

“So, what? You like to listen to folks talk, so you can find out how full of shit they are?”

The knowing smile that lit his features was all the answer I needed.

I shook my head in disbelief as I grabbed my glass. “Crazy-ass ponies,” I muttered as I walked away from the stand. I now had a decision to make: do I go back to Raindrops and her friends, or do I try and find out what Twilight and the gang have been up to while I was schmoozing with the new neighbors?

Fortunately, I didn’t have to choose, as both sets of acquaintances came trotting towards me from different directions. Twilight and her friends were approaching from my left, while Raindrops and the others were coming from my right.

“Wow, I sure am popular tonight, eh?” I said with a nervous chuckle.

“Well, I don’t want to make your head swell up like the boss,” Raindrops began with a smug grin.

“Hey!” Rainbow Dash shouted indignantly.

Raindrops’ smile developed a shit-eating quality as she passed a sidelong glance over her boss. “You being the guest of honor… of sorts… at tonight’s party would have something to do with that,” she finished.

I merely shrugged at that. “I guess so.”

“So, who’s this griffon friend you mentioned?” Bon Bon asked, her muzzle scrunching up like she’d just tasted a particularly bitter candy.

I mentally cursed myself for letting that slip. In my somewhat inebriated state, I had forgotten that the only experience with griffons that Ponyville’s citizens had had was Dash’s former friend, Gilda. Of course they’d be a bit shocked and suspicious to find that I was friends with one. Worse, I wasn’t sure just how much of the way my friendship with Doctor Silverclaw came about was a national secret. I was going to have to find some way of carefully threading a tricky needle ‒ not an easy thing to do when one is not at their best mental faculties.

Thankfully, Faran was there to make the save. “He’s the doctor that treated Derren when he first regained consciousness in Equestria. The two hit it off somehow, and spent quite a bit of time carousing in various Lower Canterlot bars, much to my dismay.”

I glared at Faran. “Gee, when you put it that way, it makes it sound like I’m an alcoholic, or something.”

Faran merely stared pointedly at the cup I was holding.

I shot her a look that said, Are you really going there? In all honesty, I wasn’t expecting her empathic abilities to be active.

Evidently, they were, much to my chagrin. Science fiction must have spoiled me on what to expect from psychic communication, as I felt none of the invisible pressure of an invading mind that I was anticipating. Nevertheless, I was suddenly able to read Faran’s expression a hell of a lot clearer. The challenging stare she aimed at me replied, Give me a reason not to.

The slap of my palm against my forehead, followed by a hardened glare said it louder than any words: Because most alcoholic beverages taste like shit to me, so I can’t stomach them long enough to get drunk.

Faran’s muzzle scrunched up and one eyebrow raised quizzically, but the gleam in her eye suggested that she was mocking me. So, you know what shit tastes like?

I folded my arms across my chest and fixed her with a level stare. Yes, because most of our conversations revolve around you shoving a metaphorical load of it down my throat.

An impish grin alighted on Faran’s muzzle. So, when did you first realize that you were a metaphorical coprophage?

My stare only intensified. The very first moment we met in the hospital ward in Canterlot. And who are you to determine that anyway? You’re not a shr‒.

Faran’s stare suddenly became challenging again, breaking into my train of thought. I hold a license in xenopsychology from the Capallian Medical Certification Ministry.

I blinked at that for a moment before my face took on a more resigned expression. Touché.

Faran wordlessly pounced with a predatory grin that said, Over so soon? I was hoping for a good fight.

I recoiled as if struck. Hey, go easy on me. This is the first time I’ve ever done anything like this. An arch expression of my own slowly formed. Besides, I love a woman that can kick my ass, even if it’s just verbal sparring.

After a moment, the shock of realization hit both of us, and we both recoiled in shock. Our unison verbal response was quite vocal: “Wait, WHAT?”

“Did any of you just get the feeling that we were two steps behind these two in whatever silent conversation they were having?” Cloudchaser asked in a deadpan tone.

“I’m not even sure how they’re doing it,” Twilight added. “It makes even less sense than the Pinkie Sense.”

That was a new one on me. “Pinkie Sense?” was all I could come up with after a minute of trying to form words. I hated that for all my flirtations with eloquence, stress could sometimes rob me of my gift for gab. And Equestria seemed hell-bent on pushing all my buttons all at once ‒ preferably by way of a set of pink hooves.

I could tell that I was going to need every ounce of liquid courage I could get before the night was out, consequences to my body and reputation be damned.

“I’ll explain it later,” Twilight promised.

“I’m sure you will. Let’s just get going, shall we?” I grumbled at last.

“Now, now, Der-bear,” Pinkie chimed in, somehow managing to drape a hoof over my shoulder. “You Pinkie Promised that you’d have fun tonight! Let’s turn that frown upside-down! After all, it’s karaoke time!”

“Sure thing,” I said as politely as possible to the pink enigma, “after you.”

And so, we made our way out of Town Hall and into a magical, cold and windless night that served as the bridge from one year to the next. The stars were out in force as we trundled into the surrounding town square, each a glimmering diamond in the murky ocean of space above. Closer to ground level, however, the lanterns marking the border of the makeshift dance floor began to drown out all but the brightest stars with their warm orange-white glow. The white unicorn that Pinkie had referred to as Vinyl Scratch didn’t seem to have moved from her post at the DJ station at all in the last however long it had been since Rainbow Dash escorted me inside Town Hall, leaving me to wonder if she’d even taken a break to use the little fillies’ room while I was busy expanding my circle of friends.

On our way out, we happened to run into a few more ponies ‒ a pegasus and two earth ponies ‒ that Twilight, Lyra, and Raindrops knew personally. Two of the trio were already familiar to me. Raindrops had referred to the gray pegasus as Ditzy Doo, though I wasn’t sure if that was actually her name, or some nickname that had originally been applied in derision and was now worn as a badge of pride in some ironic twist. If it was a nickname, it seemed rather fitting, given her earlier demonstrated talent for accidentally setting rats alight.

Of the two earth ponies, I quickly recognized the maroon coat and two-tone pink and white mane and tail on one as belonging to Cheerilee, the teacher who had asked me about human education methods at the welcome ceremony earlier. For her part, Cheerilee seemed glad to see me again, as she cheerfully waved at me before offering a hoof to shake. I had to swap my drink cup to my left hand, but other than that, I was able to return the greeting without too much trouble.

The final addition to our greatly expanded party was a pale yellow earth pony mare whose carrot-colored mane and tail rivaled Pinkie’s in curliness. Somehow, it didn’t surprise me in the least that her cutie mark consisted of a trio of carrots, and that her name, according to Raindrops, was Carrot Top. As I was musing over how fitting her name was, she was looking me up and down. The troubled expression on her muzzle suggested that she wasn’t quite sure what to make of me, but for the time being, she meekly accepted Raindrops’ insistence that I was a trustworthy sort.

The area immediately in front of the stage was packed with ponies, even spilling out onto the dance floor a bit. A number of pegasi were hovering above the crowd in order to get a better vantage point. Despite the airborne obstructions, not to mention having to mentally block out the unintentional show a few pegasus mares were giving me, I was able to clearly see the stage.

Vinyl Scratch wasn’t alone up there. Accompanying her was an earth pony mare with a slate gray coat and elegantly styled charcoal black mane and tail. To my immense surprise ‒ both because of her treble clef cutie mark, and the fact that she was somehow managing to hold the bow in her hoof with the practiced ease of a professional ‒ the mare was playing a cello. The two were performing some odd fusion of classical and electronic music that was starting to sound like a musical duel towards the end, an impression that was only reinforced by the frantic movements of the duo.

When the piece came to an abrupt end, the square erupted in cheers and thunderous hoof-stomping. Even I was caught up in the excitement, doing my best to clap enthusiastically and not spill my drink.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spied Lyra appraising me with a sidelong glance. “See anything you like?” she asked with a sly smile.

I shook my head. “Just a bit awed. I would’ve thought that not having fingers would be a disadvantage when it comes to things requiring a certain amount of dexterity, but it seems Equis didn’t get the memo in that regard.”

“I think you’ll find this world to be full of surprises,” Lyra replied, her lips drawn up in an enigmatic smile. The rest of her expression was likewise unreadable, except for the hint of coy amusement dancing in her eyes.

“It’s not that surprising,” Twilight interjected. “Every sapient ungulate species also has the ability to consciously emit a weak telekinetic field from their hooves that allows them to grip objects as if they had the fingers and opposable thumbs of minotaurs.”

A teasing grin found a home on my lips. “Ah, so you’re cheating.”

“Be nice,” Twilight murmured.

Our attention was drawn back to the stage as Vinyl picked up a microphone in her telekinetic grasp, which turned out to be a magenta color similar to Twilight’s. “Goooooood evening, Ponyville! Is everypony, and every human, ready to rock their way into the new year?”

The crowd roared its approval.

“I can’t hear you!”

The roar grew louder.

“I still can’t hear you!”

The roar reached deafening levels.

“Alright! Now, that’s more like it!” Vinyl’s voice boomed out from the speakers. “Now, we’ve come to the part of tonight’s festivities where we invite anyone who wants to add a little… magic to the evening to come up here and sing some of their favorite tunes for the enjoyment of all!”

The crowd gave another rapturous cheer in response to Vinyl’s announcement. A silly notion wormed its way into my brain, and I had to fight back the urge to laugh: the mare could probably announce the impending end of the world, and the crowd would still cheer her on.

“But tonight’s a special night, as we have the distinct honor of welcoming a new neighbor to Ponyville in addition to welcoming the new year. So to celebrate our new arrival, I’d like to let the guest of honor start things off for us. Derren Knox, come on down!”

I suddenly found myself the center of attention as every pony around me turned to take a gander at me. Several were offering words of encouragement as I stood there stock still, trying to figure out how I’d been volunteered as the sacrificial lamb for this ritual. I could feel my heart rate rising again as the panic that had momentarily robbed me of my ability to move at the welcoming ceremony came back in force.

Once again, I was freed from my mental paralysis by my friends. An amber aura encased my drink cup as Lyra gently, but firmly, pried it from my left hand. At the same time, I could feel a draft coming from just above and behind me as a pair of hooves steadily pushed me in the direction of the stage. Looking back, I saw that the hooves belonged to a certain pegasus of my acquaintance who had a reputation for being a sourpuss.

“Thanks, but I think I can handle it from here,” I said.

Raindrops gave a small snort at that. “You’ve had enough booze to get you walking funny. Wouldn’t do for you to embarrass yourself by face-planting on your way up to the stage, now would it?” I could feel her breath wafting over me as she whispered harshly in my ear.

“Alright. Alright. Fine. Geez, you sound like my mother.”

“Except that your mother probably wasn’t a pony.”

“No, she was a hamster.” I looked at Raindrops with a straight face as her confusion and consternation deepened. Finally, I could take no more, and burst out laughing. “Geez, Raindrops. I’m just kidding. Don’t take it so personally.”

“Oh, yes. You are such a comedian,” she replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now get up there and show us what you’ve got, you big dork!” With that, she gave me a solid whack between the shoulder blades with her hoof, propelling me towards the steps leading up to the stage where Vinyl had her DJ equipment.

I took care in climbing up onto the stage, where I was subsequently met by the mare herself as she slid right up next to me. “Derren! Knox!” she shouted, as if excessively excited to meet me. For some reason, it seemed as though she had put the microphone on a reverb setting, as her voice echoed from the speakers.

I received another shock to my system when Vinyl suddenly turned and started walking away, putting an exaggerated sway into her hips. “This stallion is fueled, like fire! So start melting, ladies!” She reached the opposite end of the stage and turned around, a predatory smirk dawning on her face as she noticed I had been mesmerized by the motion of her rump ‒ though it was more like looking at a train wreck from my perspective. “This boy is hotter than hot! He’s hot hot HOT!” I had to step back a bit, as Vinyl had gotten in my face with her antics.

The crazy mare continued unperturbed, practically singing her words. “And he’s got something to say to all of you Ponyvillians out there.” She suddenly thrust the mic in my face. “Pop it like it was my cherry when I was the tender age of fifteen, K-man!”

For a moment, I found myself robbed of the power of speech. After a whole week around more prudish mares like Twilight and Faran, I was more than a little caught off guard by Vinyl’s casual mention of her first sexual encounter ‒ not to mention more than a little weirded out by the mental images the statement had provoked. Eventually, I managed to get my mind settled enough to let out a stunned, “Uh, hi.”

A flash of annoyance passed quickly over Vinyl’s muzzle, but she resumed her spiel nonetheless. “Quiver, ladies, quiver. He’s about to set the world on fire. How’s he gonna do it, you ask? Well, let’s go to K-man for the word of the night. You happy to be up on this stage?”

I leveled the DJ with a deadpan stare. “Thrilled.”

With perhaps all of Ponyville watching the two of us, Vinyl visibly gathered her composure as she handed the microphone to one of the unicorn stagehands. The stallion let out a grunt when the microphone smacked him solidly in the chest, a sound that was amplified by the speakers. Vinyl reared up on her hind legs, and I braced myself for an equine frontal assault ‒ one that never came. Instead, Vinyl hooked a foreleg over my shoulder, and levitated her shades upwards to rest just below her horn.

The narrowing of her rose-colored eyes told me that despite the relatively friendly gesture, I was not going to like this conversation. “Look, Derren,” she said, suddenly dropping the outlandish speech patterns, “I realize that my stage persona may be a little… much for folks to deal with. But for Celestia’s sake, at least try to look like you’re having a good time. You’re killing me here, dude.”

I took several long, slow blinks, struggling to adjust to Vinyl’s abrupt change of demeanor. “Umm, sure.”

For her part, Vinyl pressed a hoof to her face. “Better than nothing, I suppose,” she muttered. And like a switch being flipped, Vinyl yanked the microphone back from the stagehand and dove back into her performance mode like nothing had happened.

“Mares and gentlecolts, prepare your nethers for an audioerotic experience like never before as the K-man drops his world’s sweet beats on your ears.” She surreptitiously aimed a penetrating glare at me. “You green to go, K-man?”

“I… guess?”

“There’s no such thing as guessing when you’re performing, K-man! You green or red?”

“I’m pretty green, but there’s just one thing.” I beckoned Vinyl over for a moment.

The mare let out a low growl as she trotted over. “What is it now?”

“Well, I don’t know any of the popular songs here, and unless that ‘WubMaster’ of yours can somehow channel the Mu‒”

“It can. You just have to invoke the Music of Harmony while holding the mic,” she said, waving the mic pointedly.

“Invoke the Music of Harmony?” I parroted.

Vinyl nodded. “Just sing from your soul. The rest should come naturally.”

“You make it sound so easy,” I said, leveling a deadpan stare at her. Sing from the soul, she says. As if I even know what the fuck that means.

“Now then,” Vinyl said matter-of-factly. “Are you ready to rock our world?”

Ponies were beginning to murmur impatiently. I had to think of something, and fast. Taking a moment to steady my breathing, I concentrated on finding a festive song from my mental database of human music. A sly smile spread across my lips as I thought of the perfect song to start off with. Who knows, I thought, maybe if I do this right, they’ll want an encore.

I nodded to Vinyl. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Vinyl lowered her shades back into place, covering her eyes as her muzzle split in a wide grin. “Now, that’s what I like to hear! Lemme see you blow our socks off!”

With that, her horn lit up as she used her telekinesis to casually sling the microphone in my direction. Despite bobbling it a bit as it bounced out of my hands, which stung a bit from the force she’d managed to impart to the mic, I managed to catch it at the edge of the stage. Once I was certain there was no danger of me accidentally falling into the crowd, I held the microphone up and said, “Hold onto your rumps.”

It was as much of a warning to the audience that they might be in for disappointment as it was a means of steeling myself for the next step. So far, I had been at the mercy of seemingly random intervention on the part of the planet’s own divine will, as it were. This would be a first for me, and to say that I was uncertain about what I was about to do was the understatement of the century.

It took a moment of visibly gathering my concentration and exerting my will on the part of my mind that housed my psychic connection to the planet’s harmonic magic field. I had my eyes closed, but I could imagine that I probably looked somewhat constipated as I did this. Nevertheless, the results spoke for themselves, as a familiar upbeat, almost princely instrumental intro blared out over the speakers. At the appropriate moment, I took my psychic cue and began to sing.

I thanked my lucky stars that the ponies didn’t seem to be paying too close attention to the lyrics, as I’m not sure that they’d approve of the apocalyptic visions being spun within. Of course, that assumed that they wouldn’t bother to think about them while raiding the fridge later that night.

At any rate, the audience seemed to be eating up my performance, and by the time I was done, a loud cheer erupted from the crowd of ponies before me.

“YES!” Vinyl erupted almost orgasmically into the microphone as she yanked it from my hands with her magic. “That is how it’s done, K-man! You ever wanna regale us with your awesome tunes tonight, you just mosey your sweet rump on over here and mount us again!” She proceeded to punctuate her statement with a series of rather lewd hip thrusts that had me turning my head away in embarrassment.

I was still shaking my head in bemusement when I caught up to my new friends, who burst into a cheer of their own upon seeing me. My mental state was not helped by Rainbow Dash adopting “K-man” as her new nickname for me, and using it to tease me at every opportunity.

“I think I preferred it when she called me ‘Der-bear,’” I muttered to no one in particular when Rainbow had addressed me by the embarrassing moniker for the umpteenth time. I then fixed Twilight with a serious look. “Is every pony in this town that crazy?”

Twilight burst into laughter in response. Upon seeing my highly unamused expression, she quickly sobered up. “Sorry. It’s just that I thought much the same thing when I first came to Ponyville.”

“I can see why,” I said blandly.

Twilight merely offered a sympathetic smile in response. Raindrops, on the other hand, had a more unconventional take on the psychology of Ponyville’s citizens.

“Probably comes with living on the edge of the Everfree,” she said with a crooked smile.

“That, and all the disasters we seem to attract because of it,” Bon Bon added, a disgruntled look etched on her face.

“Funny, I would’ve thought that was because of the fact that the only ponies capable of wielding Equestria’s most powerful means of defense live here, right Boss?” Raindrops’ smile turned teasing as she appraised Rainbow with a sidelong glance.

Rainbow gave a derisive snort in response. “You didn’t seem to mind so much when we were using our awesomeness to save your rump from Nightmare Moon and Discord, Rainy.” She shot a smug look back at Raindrops.

Raindrops merely rolled her eyes in response, and opened her mouth as if to deliver a devastating retort.

“You know, you guys really aren’t making a good case for me settling down here,” I said in an attempt to intervene diplomatically.

“No one said you had to live here,” Bon Bon replied with a sly smile.

“Oh, believe me. If I had my druthers, I’d be somewhere else. Unfortunately, I don’t have any bits to my name, and it’s only by the grace of Twilight’s generosity that I have anywhere to stay.”

Cloudchaser’s eyes twinkled with barely-suppressed mirth. “Oh, my. Living together with a mare you barely know? You sure move fast.”

“And that’s when my drinking problem began,” I muttered, letting out a rude noise in frustration.

“Began?” Faran snorted out a laugh.

I had to seriously fight to suppress the urge to facepalm. “You know what? I’m going back up to the stage for another number. Maybe I can find the remains of my dignity there.” I held out my drink cup abruptly, caring little that some of the rainbow-hued liquid within had sloshed out and spilled on the ground. “Could someone hold this for me, please?”

Twilight’s horn lit up as she took the cup from me in her telekinetic grasp. With a nod of thanks, I parted company with the group and made my way back towards the stage, joining the end of a somewhat lengthy line of ponies that also held aspirations of becoming Equestria’s next top idol.

As I waited in line, I took the opportunity to pay attention to the songs that Ponyville’s residents deemed good music. There seemed to be a wide range of styles, from ballads to rap to blues to country. One thing in particular that I noticed was that in spite of many of the ponies being “assisted” by the Music of Harmony as I was, the music all seemed to be completely heartfelt and organic, not the mass-produced, recycled crap that made up an ever-growing percentage of “music” back on Earth. The comparison prompted a realization that I was starting to sound like someone from my parents’ generation talking about the music my peers consumed.

Damn, I’m getting old, I thought.

About halfway through the line, I realized that I hadn’t seen Lyra when I came back from kicking off Karaoke Hour. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why: the next act was a duo with Lyra and the slate gray earth pony mare from before. Lyra had brought along a harp from somewhere and was holding it in her telekinetic aura. Despite using her hooves to do so, she was plucking the strings with all the grace of a professional harpist from Earth. The melody she and the unknown mare were weaving was heart-achingly beautiful and ‒ to my ear, at least ‒ bore a passing resemblance to a piece of background music from an old Japanese RPG involving giant mecha.

I must have been lost in my own thoughts for a moment, as I didn’t even register the music coming to an end. A familiar voice snapped me out of my reverie.

“I guess I can tug at the heartstrings of humans just as easily as ponies.”

I shook my head to clear my thoughts before gazing into the amber irises of the mare who had just spoken. Her instrument was stowed in a case that was barely sticking out of the saddlebags she was wearing ‒ saddlebags that just happened to be adorned with a clasp that matched her cutie mark.

“W-What do you mean, Lyra?” I asked in a surprisingly choked-up voice.

She pointed to my face with a hoof before using her telekinesis to offer me a handkerchief. I touched my fingertips to my eyes. They came away wet. Again.

“Dammit,” I muttered as I accepted the handkerchief from Lyra and used it to wipe my face clean. Even though it could be oddly cathartic at times, I really hated getting emotional like that ‒ especially in front of others.

Lyra seemed to understand this almost instinctively, as she beckoned me closer with a hoof. I dropped into a squat so that I was at eye level with her, and she gently placed a comforting hoof on my shoulder. She then leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

A warm feeling settled in my gut at that, and I couldn’t resist an equally warm smile tugging at my lips. “Thanks, Lyra,” I said, clasping her hoof in my hand, “I appreciate it. Just try not to reduce me to a blubbering mess too often. I don’t think my male pride could take it.”

The smile on her face was as brilliant as the sun as her silvery laughter tinkled in the air once more. “I’ll try not to,” she replied. I then felt an invisible force pointedly nudging me in the direction of the stage. “Now, go do what you need to do,” she said, punctuating the statement with one last telekinetic push.

I ascended the stage steps once more, only to be greeted by Vinyl and her overbearing stage persona once again. “Well, well, well. Fillies and gentlecolts, look who’s back for Round Two!”

The crowd erupted in cheers once more, but that was the furthest thing from my mind at the moment. My gorge began to rise as Vinyl stalked towards me, and in a brief moment of panic, I considered fleeing back the way I came. “K-man, did you miss me so much that you just couldn’t stay away? Perhaps you wanted to offer me a bit of your love of life?”

At this, Vinyl turned her back to me and proved herself the equal of Cloud Kicker’s reputation for perversion by flicking her tail upwards and swaying her hips, offering the briefest of glimpses of all she had to offer. A collective whinny of shock and surprise ran through the crowd, which I could only guess was the pony equivalent of leaning back and shouting, “DAAAAAAMN!”

A stagehand handed me a microphone with which to respond. “Um, no, Vinyl. I’m just here to sing.”

“I could make you sing,” she retorted with a predatory smirk and a teasing shake of her rump.

“I’m sure you could, but that’s not what I’m here for.”

“Pity,” she replied, turning back to face me. “Well, go ahead. May as well lay it on us, then.” A wicked grin crossed her muzzle. “And maybe later you can lay me on it.”

I spared her no more than a roll of my eyes before turning to face the audience. “This one’s going to be a little bit different from what I did before. It’s by a folk singer from my world named Eric Bogle. The song represents his impressions, thoughts, and feelings about three pivotal moments in recent human history ‒ two of which happened about a decade or so before I was born. The lyrics may not mean anything to you, but they mean a lot to me, especially with how radically my world has changed in the last week or so. I hope you get at least some small measure of enjoyment out of it.”

The audience fell into a respectful silence as the song began to play in everyone’s collective consciousness via the magic of the Music of Harmony. Once again, I waited until the appropriate moment to begin. As the song went on, I watched the reactions of the crowd. As expected, the first verse drew a lot of shocked looks. How were they to know that the “slavemaster” who assassinated MLK was metaphorical? Nevertheless, I could gradually see it replaced with curiosity, awe and sympathetic smiles by the end. Amazingly, there were even a couple of ponies who were tearing up at the impact the lyrics had on them.

As the last notes died away, I was met with a tepid applause that gradually grew louder. While I hadn’t received a standing ovation for my effort, it appeared to have met with general approval by the audience.

For her part, Vinyl seemed to have dropped the rampaging pervert act for the moment. When she came over, I could hear her sniffling a bit, but the biggest surprise came when she jumped up and latched onto me. In a slightly husky tone, she whispered, “That was simply beautiful, K-man. Don’t stop being awesome!”

With a hearty clap on the shoulder, she then let go of me and dropped down to all fours. I took it as my cue to yield the stage to the professionals. As I descended the stairs, I couldn’t help but feel as if the adulation was undeserved. After all, most of that was the work of the Music of Harmony. Could I really say that I’d put my all into the performance?

By the time I got back to my friends, who had nothing but praise for my performance, Vinyl seemed to have regained her composure. “Alright, Ponyville! I know you’ve had a great time tearing up my stage, and would like to continue to do so.”

A cheer erupted from the crowd once more, and I couldn’t help but wonder how they’d managed to avoid wearing out their voices with all the noise.

“Unfortunately,” Vinyl added, receiving a collective groan from the gathered ponies, “we’re going to have to put that on hold for a bit, since it’s almost time for the countdown to the new year!” The groan quickly turned into another cheer. At the same time, Vinyl’s horn lit up along with her “WubMaster,” which began to rapidly alter its form. Bits and pieces popped out, spun around, and flipped over, emitting sounds that seemed more like they belonged in a half hour-long commercial for children's toys. By the time she was done, the DJ station had turned into a large digital display ‒ or at least the arcane equivalent.

Every eye in town was glued to the display, which at the moment indicated that there were less than thirty seconds to midnight. A buzz of anticipatory excitement ran through the crowd as the countdown continued. Once the timer reached ten seconds to midnight, everyone began counting down in unison. As the last seconds ticked away, the counting got louder and louder.

Finally, the magic moment arrived, and a deafening celebratory roar erupted from the crowd with volcanic fury. At the same time, Pinkie’s party cannons went off, adding to the cacophony with flashes of brightly colored light and exceedingly loud explosions. All around me, I spied ponies engaged in a form of revelry that would’ve been right at home back on Earth: kissing one’s significant other. If it weren’t for one thing, this wouldn’t have been bothersome ‒ or at least as non-bothersome as witnessing public displays of affection between sapient aliens could be. It happened so quickly, and I wasn’t familiar enough with the ponies in question to be sure, but I could’ve sworn I saw a stallion kiss one mare before turning around and kissing a completely different mare. In the end, I wrote it off as the drink messing with my head, and decided that I would swear off of zap apple cider the next day.

Unfortunately, Equis had apparently decided to surprise me yet again. As the fireworks died down, the town broke into a rousing rendition of Auld Lang Syne. Figuring that the planet’s harmonic magic field was trolling me again, I concentrated on my psychic connection to the Music of Harmony.

The damn thing was maddeningly silent. Either this was a bit of true parallelism between our worlds, or something bad had happened to my connection. At that point, I decided that I’d had enough of Harmony’s shenanigans for one evening. I was going to drink myself into oblivion, and when I sobered up the next morning, I’d make a vow of abstinence. At least I didn’t have a wife to sell to a passing sailor for five guineas.

I shook my head to clear it of that line of thinking. Thomas Hardy was a rather depressing fellow, after all. I looked back to the stage as Vinyl’s apparatus transformed back into a mixing station and various other DJ equipment, and took a moment to reflect on the current state of affairs.

On the human calendar, it was now January First, 2013 AD.

On the Equestrian calendar, it was now the first day of First Light, 1203 AEC.

I took one more drink of my zap apple cider, and the rest of the night passed in a hazy, alcohol-soaked fog.

Author's Notes:

What's this? Two updates in one month? It's gotta be a sign of the apocalypse!

So yeah, Derrenverse Vinyl Scratch is basically a carbon copy of Chris Tucker's character from The Fifth Element.

That only applies when she's on stage, however. When not performing, however, she's an entirely different mare altogether.

Readers (in unison): She's an entirely different mare.

Speaking of Vinyl, her duet with Tavi should be pretty familiar to those of you who saw the 100th episode:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YDv7k6xk6xE

Derren's first karaoke bit:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iI2fRPmEZ6A

Lyra and Tavi's duet:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uAKaym1gx3I

What Lyra and Tavi's duet sounded like to Derren:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C6bYoYBW4gk

Derren's second karaoke bit:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tGhVZ5jk1fQ