Vinyl Scratch's Song Parody Challenge!! 8D

[Scootaloo]

Okay, my little wubbers, here's the game.

I have decided to run a little music challenge for you all, to raise our spirits and get us set for summer. Huzzah!

The challenge is for you to rewrite (parody) any of the songs from FiM, Season 1 or 2. The rules are pretty straightforward, and are as follows:

1. Your parody must be based on/to the tune of a song from MLP.
2. It must be based around the MUCK in some way, whether it be a character, storyline or group of ponies that make for something interesting in the song.
3. References to characters that are not your own are allowed, so long as you ask their permission first.
4. Nothing cruel or nasty is to be sung about another pony, likewise your song should be suitable for any age to read/sing along to. No cusses or rudeness!
5. Your song does not have to rhyme, but it has to make a certain amount of sense!
6. One player can enter any number of times, as I will be judging the song itself, not how many songs you've written.
7. Be creative! There are all manner of things you could write about, so don't be shy! Your song could be humorous, romantic, sad or pretty much anything, the sky's the limit!
8. Your songs must be posted on this thread as replies with a note saying which song they are based on (e.g. Smile Smile Smile). This is the only way I'll know I have them all in the same place so everypony gets included.

I don't yet have a closing date, I'll see how many entries I get first. I will be judging on originality, song writing skill, how competently you have adapted the original song and how much it makes me smile! (Unless it's sad, of course. XD)

Your prize will be a piece of prose with content of your choice, by me. I would offer to create the song for you, but my RL music skills leave much to be desired XD

So guys, what are you waiting for? Get writing!!

[Mixtap3]

"Well, ladies, I'm sorry to say, without the money the orphanage is going to be foreclosed. It's been a pleasure. "Filthy Rich, the purple pony said, flashing the two DJs an oily grin. Mix and Vinyl exchanged glances quietly, and Vinyl shook her head.

"Mr Rich, please! You can't do-"

"I can, and I will. It was good that you found your brother there, miss Mixtape, but the fact of the matter is, I run a business and business comes first. I need room for my new factory and while I'm moved with all the pathetic begging you've done, I'm still going to burn it down. You had your time, and now it's up." The pony snarled- immediately switching from pleasant to ruthless. Vinyl Scratch's mouth dropped open in defeat and Mixtape squeezed her eyes shut.

"Give us one month. We'll get the money. " Mix quipped suddenly, darting forward to block the club's exit. Mr Rich gave a chuckle and shook his head as if he were listening to a bad joke.

"Impossible. They're already two months behind as it is. I don't-"

"Then you can have our club!" Mix shouted suddenly, much to Vinyl's surprise- and Mr. Rich's. It was all Mixtape could think of to say- the first thing that came out of her mouth. The orphanage where she'd found her long lost brother- the only family she'd ever known...they HAD to save it. "One month...if we don't raise the money, you can have the club...two plots of land instead of one...you still get your money either way...it's win win right? You're a business pony...you can't pass an opportunity like this." Mixtape pleaded. Quietly, Mr. Rich peered at the two DJs, and glanced around the club. The dance floor, the bar, the sound equipment...

He gave a snort and tossed his head, dipping around Mixtape and out into the street.

"One month." He finally said, and trotted away, leaving Vinyl Scratch and Mixtape trembling in uncertainty.

"How do we make that much money in one month, Scratch?" Mixtape whimpered. Vinyl Scratch gave a deep sigh, and rested an arm around her partner's shoulders.

"We play the best song in the world. " She replied quietly.


This Song Aria

Vinyl Scratch:
This song is going to be per-fect!

Mixtape:
The type of song that everypony will recall!

Vinyl Scratch:
With everypony gathered round

Mixtape:
We'll blast 'em with our brand new sound!

Vinyl Scratch & Mixtape:
And we'll prove that we're the best DJs of alllllllllll!!

Mixtape:
This song is going to be per-fect!

Vinyl Scratch:
The type of song that everypony will recall!

Mixtape:
Our careers are both at stake!

Vinyl Scratch:
So a mistake we cannot make!

Vinyl Scratch & Mixtape:
So this has, GOT to be the best song of them alllllllll!

Vinyl Scratch:
I could care less, about the press
It's a mistake that I won't make!
How, am I lying when I saaaaaaaaaay?:
That no matter what the weather,
Me n' Mix will stick together,
The truth is that our song will beat them allllll!

Mixtape:
Yeah our beats will shake the room!
It's sooooooooooo loud, speakers go boom,
Turn that di-al all the way past niiiiiiiiiiiiine!!

Vinyl Scratch:
We must create before it's too late!
Find a song to save the day!
Mix, we've got to find a waaaaaaaaaay!

Mixtape:
And I fear that things may look grim,
Options are starting to slim,
We can't mess up, or those orphans will paaaaaaay!

Vinyl Scratch:
Can't fail now, there is no room
All Myyyyyy thoughts are on that tune,
Leeeeeeets hurry Mixie, the concert is so sooooooon!

Mixtape:
Finally, our concert has arrrrived!

Vinyl Scratch
On stage, we'll win this side by siiiiide

Mixtape:
we can't leave this up to fate!

Vinyl Scratch:
Can't stop now, it's much to late!

Mixtape:
Or else, this club will be,

Filthy Rich:
Mine. All Mine!!! Mwahahahahahahaha!

[Derpy]

So much funs!! Mixtape song? So ALSO funs.

Have made my own entry!!! So proud of! ;D Only problem? Not so kidsafe. Oh well! Enjoy!

[Derpy]

DINKY DOO, the mailmare's daughter--blank-flanked, magicless, maladjusted and adrift. This benighted child was recently administered a test of magical potential by Princess Luna. The results surprised even the ancient princess, who told Dinky that while further testing is needed, her special gifts may end up lying in the field of...necromancy.

(C.C)


ART OF THE DEAD
(To "Art of the Dress" by Daniel Ingram, in S1E14, "Suited for Success". After "Putting it Together" by Stephen Sondheim in Sunday in the Park with George.)

Some troubled weeks later, Dinky dreams that she's in her very own workshop--a cluttered, muculent, split-level affair adjoining the Ponyville graveyard....

D: <sings>
Piece by piece, stitching it together.
Second chance! Got to find an stiffer upper lip.
Hoping you don't mind your brother's femur;
It's the perfect ball joint for your hip!
Using my own custom nomenclature,
Following a pattern wrought by nature--
I'm making your new body!

Yard by yard, digging up the goodies.
Jaw, neckline; Don't you know a stitch in time saves nine?
Making something perfect to entice
You out of eternal paradise.
Or if not you, somepony else
Eager to escape their private hells!
I'm stitching you together!

Necromancy's easy
When you let your mores go!
Let 'em all call me sleazy.
I'm doing a job that makes most ponies queasy!

Custom job...my own pet project.
Griffon's arm--way beyond the pale of "Do no harm".
Waking up the work of putrid cells--
Little more than magic-powered shells,
Still you must admit the feeling lingers:
Wouldn't this be easier with fingers?
I'm doing what's forbidden!

Chunk by chunk, thread by thread!
Pelvis, loin, barrel, head
Splice by splice, shred by shred
Go where most fear to tread--
And that's the art of the dead!!

As the music continues, Princess Luna, Monarch of Equestria, Keeper of the Clocks, Tamer of the Titans, Musa Suprema Scientifica and Living Embodiment of the Night, reveals herself from the shadows, having witnessed the whole display.

D: Oh. You're here.

L: Knowest thou, Dinky? In many ways, this bizarre and staggeringly perilous path upon which thee find thyself reminds us of our own unceasing trials.

D: You have trials?

L: Protecting our ponies from themselves, in short. To rule a country heavily is exhausting and, for large enough populations, impossible. Yet to rule lightly--that is what takes real finesse. The latter comes naturally to my sister.

D: But I guess it's not up your alley?

L: Oh, it is, if for no reason other than that it must be. But what for Celestia is merely natural is for myself an art.

D: An art. I can see that. But what has it got to do with necromancy?

L: The parallel lies clear to my mind. By thy art, Dinky Doo, thou approach the ideal of immortality--an ideal which, incidentally, would curry utter disaster were it ever reached. My sister and I, contrariwise, -possess- immortality, and in all our actions seek to harness its dangerous implications. By cultivating pony civilization, we tie ourselves down to the eddies of time, thus taming our immortal natures and preserving sanity for ourselves and our ponies. Thou reach from the mortal life toward the immortal one, while we do the opposite; in this way, beloved Dinky, we together fashion bridges.

<sings>
Year by year, stitching it together...
Dangers loom, even if the risk is fairly slight.
War is never far from the horizon;
Neither are catastrophe or blight.
Even gentle ponies bear a madness
Mirrored in their royal rulers' might.
We're keeping it together.

D: So every pony's life is a constant struggle against madness? Like, a bleeding core inside of all of us?

L: That bleeding core is thy heart, Dinky Doo. Blood is necessary for passion.

D: Great. No way out.

L: <sings>
Age by age
Change on change!
My sister and I watch the
World grow strange.

A republic puts us in a bind;
Despotism atrophies the mind!
Keeping veto power seems unkind
But we can't just leave you all behind!

Autocracy's easy,
But only if you're depraved.
Rulership takes precision:
To stave off doom while retaining one's vision.

D: So why bother? Why not just go do your own thing and let us ponies go to hell in a haybasket?

L: Because you -are- our thing, Dinky Doo. Controlling the patterns of the heavens, shaping the processes of land and light and fire and water, stretching the boundaries of form and matter--over sufficient centuries, even these things grow tiring. The only lasting source of edification for immortal beings is the mortal sphere, however much some may deny it. Civilization is a tapestry of minds, and minds are a tapestry of truths and falsehoods, and it is in such moving tapestries that intricacy lies.

D: But isn't a screwed up civilization just as interesting as a happy one? Doesn't the tapestry move more when it's at war with its neighbors, or with itself?

L: One might think so, but nay. We have seen far too much chaos of that stripe, and must confess the differences grow trivial.

D: So you're stuck ruling over a bunch of us idiot ponies too stupid to keep from destroying each other?

L: That is the perpetual quandary of royalty, yes. But Dinky, do not underestimate the force of intellect or will required to attain and keep stability. Over the course of generations, while hampered by limited and local perspectives, it hardly takes idiocy to let things slip a bit. Ponies are actually remarkably clever.

D: So even the smartest creatures are yoked to death?

L: As this very workshop proves. As a people, we love life, yet are drawn indirectly to death time and time again. This is an inevitable consequence of an unfortunate truth: Deep down, very few of us truly know -what- we desire.

As the ceiling turns to a sparkling dusk sky, the bearers of the Elements of Harmony descend into the workshop on a swirling silver ribbon. They trot to and fro, singing:

PP: All we ever want is independence!

RD: All we really like is what we know.

TS: Gotta balance clemency with power...

A: Or the whole kaboodle may go sour!

R: Ruling out a written constutitution,

F: Will there ever be a sound solution?

L: Working to preserve a pony nation;
Remember, it's all administration!

D&L: Life and death, war and peace.

D: You will not find release.

L: Would that blood were not shed.

D: I use quinine instead!

D&L: And that's the art of the dead!!

The two figures rise to their hindlegs and exalt the sky, now a glittering sea of starry sprinkles against a hazy black. Dinky sees herself from above; as she rises, the scene swirls, and the last notes are played, and then, abruptly--

--She wakes in a dirt cheap hostel in Canterlot, surrounded by vagrants and wrapped in an old blanket. With a sudden sickness in her stomach, she remembers her fears about her friend Solar Eclipse and others, currently searching for the missing Luna in Tartarus.

Dinky rolls over, closes her eyes tightly, and wonders what the hell is wrong with her subconscious.