Terror and Tremolo

Part 1

Written in collaboration with http://www.fimfiction.net/user/Triques

"Do I want to know how you bucked yourself up this time?" [1]

"At least it was fun this time," I said with a grin, alighting on the dirt road in front of Sugarcube Corner carefully so as not to agitate my sprained knee. "Mosh Pits are awesome, by the way. But if you ever go to one, wear a helmet."

"Yeah I think I'll pass on that,” snickered Tom.

I had just flown in from the hospital, where Nurse Redheart had made sure that no bones were broken or ligaments were damaged, and she wrapped it in gauze... for some reason. I'm not entirely sure why, but her hoof seemed to be attached to her forehead almost the entire time that she was treating me.

"So what fantabulous and exciting things do we have planned for today, my dense and wonderfully entertaining pony?" Tom asked, pushing the door open with his hip and held it open for me. He had been standing just outside the door of the sweet shop, waiting on me to arrive.

"Uh... Eat, have Roseluck meet us here while/after we eat, and then go to the park. Or something. I don't even know... D'you think she'd like the park? I mean, everypony's been to the park, it's not like it's anything new... Maybe we could walk along the edge of Everfree forest or something... Or do you think that that'd scare her? She's a tad skittish, after all—”

Tom put his hooves on my shoulders. "Night. SHUT UP. Calm down dude, it's not that big of a deal. We'll eat then go to the park."

I sighed. "You're right... I guess..." I moved through the open door of Sugarcube Corner and was greeted by the cheerful ding of the bell that was mounted on the door. I looked around suspiciously. "It's quiet..." My ears flattened against my head. "Toooo quiet..." As usual, we were the only ponies in the store, since it was usually an odd hour to eat: right before the lunch rush hit, when everypony was still working or what have you.

"My goodness, pony," Tom said, walking past me with a shake of his head. "Could you be anymore high-strung today?" He walked nonchalantly over to our usual table and sat down, looking fairly content.

I ignored Tom and crouched down, inspecting my chair for any sort of practical joke. Seeing none, I slowly sat down, watching all corners of the room. "We didn't get a greeting at the door. That means one of two things: She's depressed, or she's planning something. I'm not sure which one I'd rather—"

“FOREEV--oh, wait. You're not Twilight.” I tried to hide my spastic jump at the sudden sight of a pink pony hanging from the ceiling with nothing holding her up. It didn’t work very well.

"No Pinkie, she had some reading to catch up on; it's just us." Tom smirked. "Well, Night Rush is bringing a lady friend with him, so there’ll be one more."

"Want a megaphone, so everypony can know?" I glared at Tom, whose smirk only broadened.

"Yes, please."

I sighed, bottling up the "buck-you" for a later use. "So, Pinkie--just my usual. Again." I smiled at her, hoping that she would allow physics to resume their normal course and stop hanging from the ceiling.

"Same, I'm in the mood for a surprise," Tom said, temporarily occupying himself by staring out the window.

"Same-same, or different-same?" Pinkie chattered rapidly after being quiet for an uncharacteristically long time. "They're different, but the same. Y'know?"

He paused, her words tripping even me up; and I had known her ever since she moved to Ponyville from the rock farms to the south. "Which would you recommend?" Tom asked.

“I recommend the different-same and the same-same all at the same time! Because, you know, it's mostly the same. But, in some cases, it's different. It's fairly simple, actually,” Pinkie said as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

Tom gave her a dumbfounded stare. "Different-same, I think."

"Okie-dokie-loki!" Pinkie grinned and disappeared from our fields of vision, and by the time we looked up to see where she went, she had already disappeared. A few echoes of pots and pans clattering in the kitchen told us that somepony was in the kitchen.

"I wish I could do that," I grumbled, jealous.

"We all do, brony." He sighed and shook his head. "We all do."

"I wonder if the slight insanity comes with it..." I shook my head to clear it before it became too fuddled with deep thoughts about life and consciousness. "Anyways. You should have been at that Foal Fighters concert last night. It was INTENSE. They finished out with The Pretender and All my Life in a row, and that's when the Mosh pit started..." I trailed off, a dreamy look on my face.

"I will never get tired of these pony puns," Tom chuckled and muttered to himself. "It sounds like you had a good time. I don't think I've ever heard much of their music except one or two songs. Then again, I don't listen to much music in the first place."

"Pony puns?" I inquired, tilting my head. "Anyways, yes. It was AWESOME. And you should totally look into them--they've got pretty much both sides of the rock and roll spectrum, from a few chill piano songs to some borderline-heavy metal songs." I laughed and threw my hooves up in the air. "It's the best of both worlds, man!"

"Ah, you've made the fatal mistake of assuming there are only two worlds, my young friend. That, and assuming that rock and roll is the only good shit out there."

“But it is the only good shit out there!" I said with a wink. "In all seriousness, though, I've got some mad respect for those guys. Along with this pony named Stewart Copeland, from The Royal Guards. That dude can play the bucking drums. You don't even know." [2]

"Well, I have seen Van Halen in concert; their drummer's pretty awesome, but I wouldn't know much about it anyway. I may play the baritone but that doesn't mean I have any knowledge of percussion instruments."

"Y'mean Van Hoofen?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Sweet, man. I've heard they're awesome live. Where were your seats?" I leaned over the table interestedly, a slowly growing grin on my face.

He looked up and pondered for a moment. "We were on the right side, facing the stage, about two-thirds of the way up and about the same towards the back. Personally, I don't think where you sit at a concert really matters so much as who you sit with."

"True. And the ponies putting on the concert makes a huge difference. Ever seen a Boston concert? Or HEARD about one, rather? T'was a little before our time..." I leaned back in my chair and laughed. "Oh, man. Those things were intense."

"Ah, Boston: immediately recognizable because all their songs all sound the same, not that they bad or anything. From what I heard, the pony who wrote all the songs was very insistent on a highly specific sound."

I nodded vigorously. "And they didn't need any sort of pyrotechnics or any gimmicky stuff to make their concerts awesome. KISS is pretty awesome, but the whole looking-like-clowns thing gets a little old after the shock value wears off."

Tom nodded. "True."

I suddenly covered my face with my hooves and put my chin on the table. "Oh, buck me, Tommy."

He looked around quickly. "Fire? Flood? Pinkie Pie’s Super New Year's Bash?"

"Oh, Celestia, Tommy--even scarier!" I whimpered.

"Yo momma?" Tom grinned at his own joke. "No, seriously. What?"

I flashed him a glare, and then motioned out the window at the approaching horror.

"Am I just being blind, or is it really just a normal pony?" He asked with mock terror.

"Oh, Celestia--she's far and away more than a normal pony," I whispered, as if she could hear me through the glass of the shop window. "And that's why she's so scary! Do you know how long I had to build up courage to ask her to come to this?!"

"Since you started stalking her in the third grade?" Tom tried unsuccessfully to choke back laughter.

"You wanna go buck yourse--HAAAAY, Roseluck! Here, I'll pull up a chair for you..."

"Oh! O-okay, then." Roseluck flashed a quick, shy smile and sat down in the offered chair. "How're you?"

"I-uh... I'm pretty good! H-how about you?" I flashed my best smile, but judging from Tommy's rather amused reaction, I assumed that it looked rather forced.

Roseluck nodded and said, “I'm pretty good." She motioned with a hoof towards Tom. "Who's your friend?"

"I'm Tommy, glad to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, Tommy." She flashed him a quick smile, and I felt a slight pang of jealousy. [3]

A blur suddenly appeared behind Roseluck. "Oooh, who's this? Your fillyfriend? Ooh, she's so pretty! You two make such a cute couple! Oh, wait--lemme get my camera real quick!" And then the blur was gone.

"What... What the hay just happened?" I asked, still somewhat shell-shocked.

Tom shrugged. "Pinkie Pie. Need I say more?"

Roseluck seemed a little bit more frazzled than Tom, but less frightened than I was. "Um... Is she always like that?"

"Mostly, unless she gets in one of those moods. Afterwards, you wish she'll never stop being happy again." Tom paused, staring in the direction Pinkie had left in. "But enough about our mildly psychotic, albeit rather endearing, friend. Tell me a little bit about yourself," He said, putting his chin on his hooves.

I aimed a kick at the front of one of Tom's cannons; however, I somehow missed, and managed to hit the edge of my fetlock  against a leg of his chair. I tried to look casual despite the tears quickly forming in my eyes. [4]

"Well, Night Rush and I met in school... We sat together during lunch and stuff, and that's where we got to know each other. And then we sorta stopped talking, and now we're hanging out again."

Tom nodded. "That's good. So, what are you doing with your life right now?"

"Well, I'm training to take over my mom's job as florist, and I play music some... I'm not very good, though..." She trailed off.

"’Not very good' my flank," I scoffed. "You could sing the pants off of anypony around, including me," I assured her.

There was a moment of silence that passed after my somewhat vehement reassurance of Roseluck's confidence. "What happened to Pi--" I was cut off by a blinding flash coming from outside the window. Pinkie had found her camera, apparently--and was now using it to act like a paparazzi and take pictures of us through the shop window.

Tom sighed and walked over, tapping on the window with a forehoof. "Pinkie, I know you're having fun, but I'm hungry and you still haven't taken our lovely young guest's order."

"Oh, she doesn't want anything," Pinkie shouted unnecessarily through the plate glass window with a grin. "And if you're hungry, then why haven't you eaten your food? It's right in front of you," she said (at a more normal volume this time) as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

And there was food in front of us. As if it had just appeared by magic. “That filly could rival Twilight with the whole teleportation thing.”

Tom was apparently so shocked and impressed all he could muster was a "Thanks Pinkie."

“Oh, my. That’s impressive,” Roseluck said with raised eyebrows.

Part 2 coming soon!

[1]: Tom: I GIGGLE AT YOUR MISFORTUNE

[2]: Tom and I talked a little bit about how the hay ponies hold drumsticks or guitars or anything like that, and I'm gonna go with how the author of "Angst Much" (At least, I think that it was Drax99 that described it this way... I’ll have to check on that. Corrections are welcome) described it: localized telekinesis similar to that of atomic bonds: strong, particularly in Earth ponies, but the object more or less has to be touching one's hoof to work. With guitars and stuff, they can sorta control the telekinetic field. Or something. ALIENS.

[3]: Why, you may ask? Because she was smiling at somepony else. I'm a paranoid coltfriend, I know.

[4]: At my best guess, this is the equivalent of hitting the cuticle of your thumb or another finger against something.