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Description

          Rarity and I waited at the train station in Ponyville. We knew someone was coming, we just didn’t know who it was.

          “Don’t you have any guesses,” Rarity asked, perplexed, “Surely you know whose coming and you’re just pulling my leg that you don’t.”

          “Honestly, I have no idea. All I know is that I got a telegram that said ‘Be prepared, I’m coming’ and gave a date and time when they would be arriving. Believe me; I’m just as curious as you are.”

          The train came into the station right on schedule. As the passengers got off, I strained my neck trying to find somepony I recognized. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see a white unicorn with two-toned blue hair and over-sized sunglasses.

          “What’s shakin’, cuz,” the unicorn said.

          “Cousin Scratch,” I replied, “why didn’t you tell me it was you?”

          We hoofbumped as Rarity stood there in disbelief.

          “Wait, you’re related to DJ Pon-3,” Rarity asked, shocked.

          “Like I said, we’re cousins. Her father is Metalhead, my mother’s older brother. But you still have to tell me what you’re doing here in Ponyville Vinyl.”

          “Well I’ve got to get back to the shop,” Rarity excused herself, “I’m sure you two have a lot of catching-up to do.”

          …

          “Can’t a pony just come and see her favorite cousin,” Vinyl Scratch said as we lunched.

          “I’m your only cousin. Plus, it’s something when you come all the way out to Ponyville to do so. How did you know I was here, anyway?”

          “Octavia told me, of course. As soon as I heard that, I was like ‘Dang, I haven’t been to Ponyville in forever.’ So I decided to make the trip.”

          “That’s more of an excuse than an explanation. C’mon, you must be here for some party or gig, right? If you don’t tell me, I know a pony who will.”

          “Hey cuz, I wish I had a gig out here, Pinkie Pie’s my girl. But you know me, when have I ever lied to you?”

          “I didn’t say you were lying, but you are avoiding the question.”

          Scratch magically took her glasses off and placed them above her horn. She stared right at me for a moment.

          “I’m here to avert a crisis.”

          “A crisis,” I tried not to say that too loudly, “Why didn’t you say that from the beginning? What is it?”

          “Don’t worry; it’s nothing Earth-shattering or anything. You just have to convince Piccoli that Octavia and I are right about Metalhead. Your mom feels that he should lay off his lifestyle and settle into retirement. That isn’t what he wants to do, but Piccoli says she would know better, being his sister and all.”

          I rubbed my forehead with my hoof.

          “You came all the way down here to convince me to get in the middle of a family feud? Believe me; I want to help your dad, but this isn’t my fight, it’s yours. What about Octavia, she’s his sister too. What does she say?”

          “She agrees with me completely. Dude, your mom is trying to pull rank on us, and that’s not how it’s going to go down. Man, you have to use your way with words. I remember when we were foals; you could talk me into anything.”

          “I assume that Octavia told you what happened between me and my parents?”

          “Yeah, she told me, and I don’t blame you. But man, those are your parents, no matter what you said to them or what they said to you, you all can still sit down and talk, right?”

          “I don’t like this one bit. But family is family, I suppose. I’ll go tell Rarity that I’m taking a trip.”

          “Knew I could count on you, cuz.”

          …

          I was spending way too much time traveling. Canterlot one week, Manehattan the next, and this week it was Baltimare, where Uncle Metalhead was living. Scratch told me that my mother and aunt were already there, practically setting up trenches in the hallway of their hotel. We went to see Octavia first.

          “Oh I’m so glad Vinyl Scratch convinced you to come,” she said over tea, “Piccoli is just being insufferable.”

          “I just don’t see what the big deal is,” I said, “We all agree that Metalhead is no spring chicken, but it’s not like he is wheelchair-bound. As long as he’s capable of living on his own and is in his right mind, I don’t see why that should change.”

          “Precisely right. But Piccoli isn’t so much worried about his ability to live by himself as his ability to take care of himself. You know that he has always been a kind of raucous individual.”

          “Look, no matter what is said, nothing is going to get decided unless we can all peacefully sit in the same room and understand each other.”

          “I suppose you’re right. Only one thing to do then.”

          …

          Metalhead was a stallion’s stallion. Back in his younger years, he was known as a brilliant guitar player who could make a solo instrumental album go Platinum, let alone when he was a member of Iron Horses, one of the top rock-and-roll groups of all time. But never let it be said that the lifestyle didn’t take its toll. Vinyl Scratch’s mother divorced him when my cousin was quite young. Unfortunately, she was unable to take care of her daughter properly either. Thus, like me, Scratch spent a lot of time with Octavia. Nevertheless, Scratch was her father’s daughter to a T.

          “It’s quite simple,” Piccoli said to Octavia, Scratch, and I, “My big brother just can’t take care of himself anymore. It was fine when he was successful and happy, but since then the band has broken up, he’s gotten divorced twice, and all of this is having a negative effect on the family.”

          “Mom,” I began, “I know where you are coming from. But it is not your decision to make.”

          “Well somepony has to make a decision. And I am the eldest pony here, so while I respect the opinions of my sister, and Vinyl, and you, my decision is final.”

          “It is not about seniority, it is about attachment to a pony. You may be his blood, but Scratch is his flesh and blood. If there is going to be a decision made by anypony who isn’t Metalhead himself, it is going to be made by her.”

          “But that’s the problem,” Piccoli chuckled, looking right at my cousin, “You are proof that he can’t take care of himself. If he had been a good parent to you back then, you wouldn’t have turned into the rebellious pony that you became. If you were my daughter, and raised properly, you would be happy and married by now.”

          “You hypocrite,” Scratch raged, tossing her glasses aside and going horn-to-horn with my mother, “I am who I am, and nothing would change that. And you shouldn’t be talking about bad parenting considering your track record. In fact, you should feel lucky that Art grew up to be such a cool dude. I mean, if I wasn’t related to him, and if I was into stallions, I would date him, and so would a lot of other mares. And he did that all on his own, without any need for you.”

          Piccoli was visibly shaken by her niece’s words. I could even see some tears come to her eyes momentarily before she composed herself. Vinyl, on the other hand, had tears rolling down both cheeks, though more out of anger and frustration than sadness.

          “Fine then,” Piccoli huffed, turning her back to us, “it seems that my whole family, my son included have decided to cut me out of their lives in the most hurtful way possible. I’m returning to Canterlot. Good-bye.”

          My mother exited the room as Octavia comforted Vinyl. I for one wasn’t going to let it end this way. I followed my mother all the way to the lobby of the hotel.

          “Mom, we need to talk.”

          “Haven’t we talked enough for your taste?”

          “This didn’t go the way I wanted it to. Why did you say those things to Vinyl? We have a small family, the last thing we need to do is break apart over the well-being of another family member.”

          “Everything I said to her was true. She knows it and you know it.”

          “And everything she said to you was true as well.”

          “Metalhead chose to neglect his wife and then his child.”

          “And you chose your career over your foal.”

          “That’s different. My brother was already successful. He could have slowed down and taken responsibility, and he didn’t.”

          “And despite all that, Vinyl doesn’t despise him; she doesn’t spend all her time wishing that they could have been together. No, she wants to make sure that he is happy, and he is happiest when he is independent, and that is how he should remain.”

          Piccoli looked at the floor. I could tell that she was repeating everything that had been said in her head. When she looked up, she was on the verge of tears again.

          “You’re right. I’m so sorry Art. And tell Vinyl that I’m sorry too. I guess maybe that I assumed my brother was unhappy for all those years. He wasn’t unhappy, he was just upset. Upset that he didn’t do everything he maybe should have done. But just because he didn’t always do those things doesn’t give me the right to dictate his life now.”

          “Thanks,” I smiled, “Maybe there’s hope for us after all.”

          Piccoli smiled and left the hotel, presumably to make her way to Canterlot. I returned upstairs to relay the news to Octavia and Scratch.

          “Now what do we do,” Scratch asked, “I’m still really upset at your mother.”

          “I think I have an idea. But we’ll need Metalhead.”

          …

          “Good evening, Ponyville,” Pinkie Pie announced, “Do we have a treat for you tonight: the musical combination of Metalhead and DJ Pon-3!”

          Metalhead broke into one of his trademark solo fast rifts. Soon, Vinyl brought in her bass which gave beat to the rift and expanded the sound. Soon every pony in Ponyville was dancing and having a good time.

          Dearest Princess Celestia,

          Out of all of a pony’s friends, their family is probably the most important. Friends can come and go, move away, or change over time, but family is with you for life. And when you let the small things interfere with the feeling of family, that is something that hurts more than losing any number of friends.

          Your faithful servant,

          Art Colter

Description

          Rarity and I waited at the train station in Ponyville. We knew someone was coming, we just didn’t know who it was.

          “Don’t you have any guesses,” Rarity asked, perplexed, “Surely you know whose coming and you’re just pulling my leg that you don’t.”

          “Honestly, I have no idea. All I know is that I got a telegram that said ‘Be prepared, I’m coming’ and gave a date and time when they would be arriving. Believe me; I’m just as curious as you are.”

          The train came into the station right on schedule. As the passengers got off, I strained my neck trying to find somepony I recognized. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see a white unicorn with two-toned blue hair and over-sized sunglasses.

          “What’s shakin’, cuz,” the unicorn said.

          “Cousin Scratch,” I replied, “why didn’t you tell me it was you?”

          We hoofbumped as Rarity stood there in disbelief.

          “Wait, you’re related to DJ Pon-3,” Rarity asked, shocked.

          “Like I said, we’re cousins. Her father is Metalhead, my mother’s older brother. But you still have to tell me what you’re doing here in Ponyville Vinyl.”

          “Well I’ve got to get back to the shop,” Rarity excused herself, “I’m sure you two have a lot of catching-up to do.”

          …

          “Can’t a pony just come and see her favorite cousin,” Vinyl Scratch said as we lunched.

          “I’m your only cousin. Plus, it’s something when you come all the way out to Ponyville to do so. How did you know I was here, anyway?”

          “Octavia told me, of course. As soon as I heard that, I was like ‘Dang, I haven’t been to Ponyville in forever.’ So I decided to make the trip.”

          “That’s more of an excuse than an explanation. C’mon, you must be here for some party or gig, right? If you don’t tell me, I know a pony who will.”

          “Hey cuz, I wish I had a gig out here, Pinkie Pie’s my girl. But you know me, when have I ever lied to you?”

          “I didn’t say you were lying, but you are avoiding the question.”

          Scratch magically took her glasses off and placed them above her horn. She stared right at me for a moment.

          “I’m here to avert a crisis.”

          “A crisis,” I tried not to say that too loudly, “Why didn’t you say that from the beginning? What is it?”

          “Don’t worry; it’s nothing Earth-shattering or anything. You just have to convince Piccoli that Octavia and I are right about Metalhead. Your mom feels that he should lay off his lifestyle and settle into retirement. That isn’t what he wants to do, but Piccoli says she would know better, being his sister and all.”

          I rubbed my forehead with my hoof.

          “You came all the way down here to convince me to get in the middle of a family feud? Believe me; I want to help your dad, but this isn’t my fight, it’s yours. What about Octavia, she’s his sister too. What does she say?”

          “She agrees with me completely. Dude, your mom is trying to pull rank on us, and that’s not how it’s going to go down. Man, you have to use your way with words. I remember when we were foals; you could talk me into anything.”

          “I assume that Octavia told you what happened between me and my parents?”

          “Yeah, she told me, and I don’t blame you. But man, those are your parents, no matter what you said to them or what they said to you, you all can still sit down and talk, right?”

          “I don’t like this one bit. But family is family, I suppose. I’ll go tell Rarity that I’m taking a trip.”

          “Knew I could count on you, cuz.”

          …

          I was spending way too much time traveling. Canterlot one week, Manehattan the next, and this week it was Baltimare, where Uncle Metalhead was living. Scratch told me that my mother and aunt were already there, practically setting up trenches in the hallway of their hotel. We went to see Octavia first.

          “Oh I’m so glad Vinyl Scratch convinced you to come,” she said over tea, “Piccoli is just being insufferable.”

          “I just don’t see what the big deal is,” I said, “We all agree that Metalhead is no spring chicken, but it’s not like he is wheelchair-bound. As long as he’s capable of living on his own and is in his right mind, I don’t see why that should change.”

          “Precisely right. But Piccoli isn’t so much worried about his ability to live by himself as his ability to take care of himself. You know that he has always been a kind of raucous individual.”

          “Look, no matter what is said, nothing is going to get decided unless we can all peacefully sit in the same room and understand each other.”

          “I suppose you’re right. Only one thing to do then.”

          …

          Metalhead was a stallion’s stallion. Back in his younger years, he was known as a brilliant guitar player who could make a solo instrumental album go Platinum, let alone when he was a member of Iron Horses, one of the top rock-and-roll groups of all time. But never let it be said that the lifestyle didn’t take its toll. Vinyl Scratch’s mother divorced him when my cousin was quite young. Unfortunately, she was unable to take care of her daughter properly either. Thus, like me, Scratch spent a lot of time with Octavia. Nevertheless, Scratch was her father’s daughter to a T.

          “It’s quite simple,” Piccoli said to Octavia, Scratch, and I, “My big brother just can’t take care of himself anymore. It was fine when he was successful and happy, but since then the band has broken up, he’s gotten divorced twice, and all of this is having a negative effect on the family.”

          “Mom,” I began, “I know where you are coming from. But it is not your decision to make.”

          “Well somepony has to make a decision. And I am the eldest pony here, so while I respect the opinions of my sister, and Vinyl, and you, my decision is final.”

          “It is not about seniority, it is about attachment to a pony. You may be his blood, but Scratch is his flesh and blood. If there is going to be a decision made by anypony who isn’t Metalhead himself, it is going to be made by her.”

          “But that’s the problem,” Piccoli chuckled, looking right at my cousin, “You are proof that he can’t take care of himself. If he had been a good parent to you back then, you wouldn’t have turned into the rebellious pony that you became. If you were my daughter, and raised properly, you would be happy and married by now.”

          “You hypocrite,” Scratch raged, tossing her glasses aside and going horn-to-horn with my mother, “I am who I am, and nothing would change that. And you shouldn’t be talking about bad parenting considering your track record. In fact, you should feel lucky that Art grew up to be such a cool dude. I mean, if I wasn’t related to him, and if I was into stallions, I would date him, and so would a lot of other mares. And he did that all on his own, without any need for you.”

          Piccoli was visibly shaken by her niece’s words. I could even see some tears come to her eyes momentarily before she composed herself. Vinyl, on the other hand, had tears rolling down both cheeks, though more out of anger and frustration than sadness.

          “Fine then,” Piccoli huffed, turning her back to us, “it seems that my whole family, my son included have decided to cut me out of their lives in the most hurtful way possible. I’m returning to Canterlot. Good-bye.”

          My mother exited the room as Octavia comforted Vinyl. I for one wasn’t going to let it end this way. I followed my mother all the way to the lobby of the hotel.

          “Mom, we need to talk.”

          “Haven’t we talked enough for your taste?”

          “This didn’t go the way I wanted it to. Why did you say those things to Vinyl? We have a small family, the last thing we need to do is break apart over the well-being of another family member.”

          “Everything I said to her was true. She knows it and you know it.”

          “And everything she said to you was true as well.”

          “Metalhead chose to neglect his wife and then his child.”

          “And you chose your career over your foal.”

          “That’s different. My brother was already successful. He could have slowed down and taken responsibility, and he didn’t.”

          “And despite all that, Vinyl doesn’t despise him; she doesn’t spend all her time wishing that they could have been together. No, she wants to make sure that he is happy, and he is happiest when he is independent, and that is how he should remain.”

          Piccoli looked at the floor. I could tell that she was repeating everything that had been said in her head. When she looked up, she was on the verge of tears again.

          “You’re right. I’m so sorry Art. And tell Vinyl that I’m sorry too. I guess maybe that I assumed my brother was unhappy for all those years. He wasn’t unhappy, he was just upset. Upset that he didn’t do everything he maybe should have done. But just because he didn’t always do those things doesn’t give me the right to dictate his life now.”

          “Thanks,” I smiled, “Maybe there’s hope for us after all.”

          Piccoli smiled and left the hotel, presumably to make her way to Canterlot. I returned upstairs to relay the news to Octavia and Scratch.

          “Now what do we do,” Scratch asked, “I’m still really upset at your mother.”

          “I think I have an idea. But we’ll need Metalhead.”

          …

          “Good evening, Ponyville,” Pinkie Pie announced, “Do we have a treat for you tonight: the musical combination of Metalhead and DJ Pon-3!”

          Metalhead broke into one of his trademark solo fast rifts. Soon, Vinyl brought in her bass which gave beat to the rift and expanded the sound. Soon every pony in Ponyville was dancing and having a good time.

          Dearest Princess Celestia,

          Out of all of a pony’s friends, their family is probably the most important. Friends can come and go, move away, or change over time, but family is with you for life. And when you let the small things interfere with the feeling of family, that is something that hurts more than losing any number of friends.

          Your faithful servant,

          Art Colter