Why the heck would I even enter?!

Coco sighed to herself as she continued to keep her head low and avoid eye contact with the ponies enjoying the nice afternoon weather as they strolled through Manehattan’s Central park. Though a belly full of her favorite food instead of something awful or even nothing was a welcome change, somehow her Sassy side refused to leave her alone.

Coco kept her scowl aimed at the ground in front of her, less her grumpy expression draw even more attention to herself then the, now neon-orange, wagon and its seemingly random collection of junk already was done.

I took enough from Rarity, thank-you-very-much! I’m going to have a hard enough time getting to sleep thinking about all the gems she gave us for a used piece of gum!

Rarity’s really nice, okay! She just…

She just fixates a bit too much on certain ponies, okay? I understand she used to do something similar for Trenderhoof…

Uh… no?

“I trust you feel refreshed after your little break?”

Coco looked up into the near expressionless face of Hipsterdouche. Though Hipsterdouche avoided getting angry with her or just about anyone, Coco knew this was his ‘disappointed’ look. Sadly, with Hipsterdouche himself not having much in the way of a predictable lunch schedule, it was nearly impossible to avoid.

“Sorry, Mr. Douche. Erm… Connections was a tad full.”

Technically this didn’t have much to do with how long Coco’s lunch lasted. However, it was also technically true and therefore didn’t weigh heavily on her already burdened conscience.

Except the part where we eventually run out of coffee and hotdog money!

Hipsterdouche shook his head. “Hmmm…” he hummed in a way that showed he had somehow mastered the tone of a ‘disapproving father’, despite never having a kid.

Wait… How would you even know—

… I’m a little scared now.

Hipsterdouche continued either ignoring or oblivious to Coco’s little chat with herself. “Connections went downhill after ponies started going to it.”

Hipsterdouche tilted his head to look past Coco. “I see you found time to paint the wagon. Orange is still a bit close to red, but it’ll do, I suppose.”

Ugh… No.

Hipsterdouche continued. “Still, you almost missed the pre show!”

Coco looked around the park, her eyes seeking something out of the ordinary enough to warrant Hipster Douche’s attention.

In front of the pair, a snoring, slightly filthy, aging steel blue pegasus with a dark purple mane lifted his leg to loudly pass gas.

“Breathtaking…” Hipsterdouche said as the rancid smell of pony fart filled the park air.

“…Mr. Douche?” Coco said tentatively. “I’m fairly certain that’s just a homeless pony sleeping on a bench.”

Hipsterdouche put on a thoughtful expression. “Maybe he’s homeless because the fetters of everyday life distracted him from perfecting his craft and he abandoned them to pursue it fully.”

‘Thbpbpbpbpbtttt…’

What is it with you and body fluids!?

‘THBPTBPTBPTBPTBPTBPTBPTBTPBTPBPTBBT!’

“Marvelous,” Hipsterdouche said as he continued to marvel at napping, gassy pony.

What?! If you’re not talking to me, then who?!

‘THBPTBPT!’

“BEEEELCH!”

Coco shook her head and focused. Both her boss and her sassy side somehow enjoying the one pony gas performance was a bit too much. “I think that’s just flatulence, sir.”

“Ahhh…” Hipsterdouche tut-tutted as he shook his head. “Coco, someday you’ll learn to listen with more than just your ears.”

Ponies have more than two orifices, you know!

“Oh, for Celestia’s sake!”

Coco jumped back as the napping pegasus suddenly sat up onto his haunches and gave both her and Hipsterdouche the stink eye. “Can’t a pony sleep and fart in peace?!”

“Sa.. sorry!” Coco said on impulse as much as anything.

“Begging your pardon, my good musician,” Hipsterdouche said with a slight nod. “We were captivated by your melodic tones!”

Coco sighed internally.

The homeless pegasus simply gave Hipsterdouche a dirty look and grumbled something rude under his breath, giving one more moist pass of gas as he flapped into the air.

Hipsterdouche watched him leave as a melancholy expression slowly made its way onto his face. “There is so much beauty in the world. There goes a true artiste.”

‘Flank’! I got it. Thank you.

“Oh well,” Hipsterdouche said. “The ‘Wet Paper bag sympony’ is next on today’s outline.”

“I thought the erm… Bakery…? Was next?” Coco said tentatively.

Hipsterdouche chuckled. “Well, I had a big lunch…

Oh hush, you!

“… and I want everything to digest first.”

I get it! Why does that even matter?!

Where do you even come up with this stuff?! Look! I’ll eat six hotdogs for dinner and even wash it all down with a few cups of coffee if you can just shut up until this wet paper bag thing is over!

“Come along, Coco,” Hipsterdouche said as he walked into the park.

Coco followed behind, returning her eyes to the walkway as she continued to drag her squeaky wagon.

“Ah, you must here for the wet paper bag symphony.”

Coco looked up to see a brown earth pony stallion with a wavy light-blue mane and soaked paper bag cutie mark examine Hipsterdouche through a pair of round-framed spectacles. Coco took note that the pony’s expression seemed far more neutral compared to the usual look of shock or revolution that came from first setting eyes on Hipsterdouche.

Hipsterdouche chuckled. “Is it really that obvious?”

The pony looked Hipsterdouche up and down. “Yes. You’re clearly a pony of impeccable taste.”

Coco frowned. Her time with Suri had clued her in a bit to when someone was being sarcastic, or even faking something to pull a scam. In this case, the pony seemed very serious, and ponies who took their strange craft seriously often made for the worst experiences. She looked around and saw a small wooden stage with a trio of ponies sitting on it. Behind the ponies, a water spigot, a garden house, several piles of different sized paper bags, and buckets of various shapes and sizes were organized neatly.

Her frown only deepened as she looked over the trio of ponies, a small framed unicorn stallion with a burnt orange coat and red-orange mane, and twin pale-pink earth pony mares with short black manes that stared back at her with serious expressions on their faces. The stallion sported a bucket sloshing with water for a cutie mark. One of the twin earth pony mares sported a garden hose and the other one sported a spigot.

She could tell by their cutie marks and body language each and every one took whatever display she was about to witness very seriously. In fact, it seemed very much that this group brainstormed how to combine their talents into one unified profession and somehow came up with ‘wet paper bag musicians’.

Coco glanced at Hipsterdouche and the brown stallion as a few bits exchanged hoofs. Well… At least money is going to ponies who seem nice enough.

The brown stallion made his way behind the stage then walked up some steps onto the platform. He stopped as he reached the stack of paper bags. His face took on a calculating look, like some great general preparing for a large scale battle. He suddenly began picking up stacks of the different sized bags and flinging them forward. Each one gently glided onto a different area of the stage with a precision rarely seen applied to throwing bags. Once he had repeated this action with a stack of all the different sizes he stepped forward.

To Coco’s amazement, the trio behind him started to move like a well-timed machine. The pony with the spigot cutie mark seemed to work the spigot on stage with the precision of a surgeon performing a life or death operation. The mare with the hose cutie mark filled buckets, carefully timing moving the hose with her sister as to not waste a drop of water. An orange aura would surround each bucket as the hose moved on to another, and the unicorn would float each bucket over to a section of paper bags and slowly, but deliberately moistened several bags at once.

The whole scene might make for a wonderfully efficient form of tending a garden.

‘Splash!’

If the ponies weren’t simply dumping water on paper bags.

Soon the last bucket had been filled, the spigot turned off, and the each bucket returned to its previous position. The leader’ picked up on of the biggest and wettest bags. He narrowed his eyes and nodded at the other three ponies on stage.

Suddenly, the three ponies made a mad dash for the moist paper bags. The each reached for the closest and just as quickly turned to strike the pony closest to them as the brown stallion lunged at one of the twins with his own bag.

‘PLOP! Plop! Plop. Plop. PLOP!’

Hipsterdouche was once again in awe at the site before him. Coco simply watched with confusion at the display before her. The rhythm that the ponies seemed to have so carefully choreographed disappeared as far as she could tell.

Each pony seemed to grab a bag as soon as they one they were had fell apart to the point where it couldn’t be swung. They then proceeded to attack the pony closest to them as savagely as a pony could with a wet paper bag. She wasn’t quite certain if this was some sort of commentary delivered by bizarre performance art or an earnest attempt at making music. However, it was certainly baffling.

Well… Guess it’s just a respectable amount of hotdogs for dinner.

‘PLOP! Plop. PLOP! PLOP! PLOP! Plop. ’

“Mr. Douche?” Coco said in an inquisitive tone. “How long does this last?”

Without taking his eyes off the scene in front of him, Hipsterdouche raised a forehoof to his mouth and shushed Coco.

Despite Hipsterdouche’s shushing, he answered Coco in a quieted tone, “Too short, I’m afraid. Only three hours.”

Coco’s shoulders slumped as her ears fell around her head. “I see…” she said simply.