-Mini Story Octavia and Vinyl by Colonist!!-

Vinyl: Nothing like a beach day, huh Tavi?
Octavia: More like a beach day is nothing, Vinyl.

*The musical duo had ditched class on a Friday to take an impromptu trip to the beach. It looked to be more of Vinyl’s idea though, and “ditching class” was a little of a stretch. Octavia had refused to go along with her friend’s idea until said friend came up with a compromise that didn’t actually involve ditching class: the duo would punch out of school after the last bell and would just excuse themselves from their extracurricular after-school for alleged unforeseen circumstances. Octavia would skip her practice with the Canterlot High Orchestra due to a “finger injury”, and Vinyl would “call in sick” for her hostess duties at the karaoke bar that evening.*

Octavia: I’m definitely ditching a lot of class right now. You know that I’m not a beach person!
Vinyl: Yeah, yeah, you’ve told me before, but how am I supposed to believe that when you looked like you were enjoying yourself on the class trip?
Octavia: Ufff, don’t remind me. The yacht cruise that sank at sea?
Vinyl: Well…before all that. Lounging by the poolside, grabbing a few virgin piña coladas, and heck, you even took part in the filming of that “I’m On A Yacht” music video that the class wanted to do!
Octavia: Societal niceties and obligations.
Vinyl: Wooooow, so you’re a real “use and lose ‘em” type of gal, huh?
Octavia: I didn’t say that! I just not as extraverted as you fancy yourself to be. Besides, I never said anything about not being polite and pleasant with others. And I admit, pre-magical happenstance, I did enjoy myself on the yacht. Save the rowdy classmates, yachts are the epitome of class.
Vinyl: Love DJ’ing on them, but yachts are the epitome of opulence and douchebaggery. Did I ever tell you about how their owners rarely ever tip the DJ?
Octavia: Flesh or coin?
Vinyl: Plenty of flesh, little of coin. Douchebags, man, I swear! Now DJ’ing on the beach: that’s a real party!
Octavia: What’s a “real party” about sand getting everywhere and corrosive salt air!?
Vinyl: …still sore about that unfortunate incident with playing that cello on the boardwalk, huh?
Octavia: To be fair, some of it was my own fault. My cello needs special handling and humidity to sound just right, and *sigh* I suppose nobody goes to the beach to listen to classical cello…
Vinyl: You made a sweet fifty bucks in one hour from all those tippers though!
Octavia: Which you proceeded to blow on takeout that night.
Vinyl: Can’t say “no” to quality dim sum!
Octavia: Hmm, what’s this?

*Octavia points to a sign in the window of one of the enclosed kiosks that’s tucked in an out-of-the-way corner of the boardwalk. The sign reads, “Swimsuit Fire Sale: FREE! Conditions apply.”*

Vinyl: Now that I think about it, how could we forget to wear swimwear to our beach day?

*Vinyl looks down at her getup: a simple tank top with daisy dukes. Her cellist friend didn’t even bother changing out of her sleeping shorts and t-shirt, but managed to throw over a sarong to make it look somewhat beach-themed. Still, neither had swimsuits unless a pair of bras and panties made the cut.*

Octavia: I didn’t forget - I just didn’t care to. I was just going to hang around the boardwalk until you were finished splashing around or whatever. How could you forget yours?
Vinyl: Dunno, Tavi, but I’m not going to turn down a free deus ex machina when one shows up. Let’s go and see what this fire sale is all about!

*The girls enter the tiny, enclosed kiosk and look around. Thanks to the wise use of vertical space and shelving it’s surprisingly well-stocked with tourist wares and various beachwear. The kiosk cashier barely gives a nod before he goes back to scrolling away at whatever’s on his phone. He doesn’t get to scroll for much longer before Vinyl clears her throat to get his attention.*

Vinyl: Sup man? What’s this I see about a free fire sale?
Octavia: Excuse my friend’s manners, sir. We were interested in perusing your selection of swimwear: particularly any which fall under the free fire sale.
Vinyl: Pffft, manners my ass. I didn’t hear a single “please” there.
Cashier: Oh that’s easy, miss. They all are! As I’m sure you saw in the small lettering on the sign outside. Conditions apply!
Octavia: Indeed, we’ve seen it.
Cashier: Go ahead a pick out a set, ladies. The conditions…kinda vary depending on what you pick.
Vinyl: Ooh, your boss lets you have that kind of discretion?
Cashier: He’s never really around. Funny how I got this job. I filled out the online application, and a training video was sent to me along with my start date.
Vinyl: Haha, maybe your boss is a robot!

*Octavia grabs her friend by the shoulder and pulls her toward the swimsuit selection before Vinyl got too entrenched in chatting up the cashier.*

Octavia: I feel as though I’ve been acquainted with this guy before.
Vinyl: You noticed that too? White t-shirt, messy hair…he 
kinda looks like that one guy whose always hanging around the Rainbooms.
Octavia: But not quite…still…he’s got enough of a generic look to the point that there must be many people out there would could pass off as him…
Vinyl: *gasp* You mean like some kind of doppelgänger!? Haha, what are the odds going to even be, Tavi? Anyway, you’re distracting me. Come on, and pick out your set!

*The girls look up and down the swimsuit rack for a few moments and make their choices. Vinyl  takes the pink two-piece, and Octavia takes a frillier two-piece that happened to match her sarong.*

Vinyl: All right, my dude! We’re ready to make our purchase. Well…take home our free merch!
Cashier: Free, indeed. Just put them on for me.
Octavia: Wait a minute. As in right here and now.

*The cashier glances around the small kiosk with a growing smile on his face.*

Cashier: I don’t see a dressing room around sooooo…
Octavia: Unbelievable! Just tell us how much we owe on the regular sticker price!
Cashier: Seventy bucks each.
Vinyl: Oh nuts, I didn’t bring that much cash on me. How about you, Tavi?
Octavia: I didn’t plan on spending on anything. This whole day was your idea, remember?
Vinyl: Figures. Well, gotta do what we gotta do!
Octavia: What!?
Vinyl: Come on, Tavi! This poor guy’s probably cooped up in here all day bored out of his mind, and I think a free show is a steal for a couple bikinis!
Octavia: …why I keep going along with your ideas, Vinyl?

*The girls strip out of their original clothes and put on their respective bikinis. Not that they were trying to draw it out any longer than necessary, but it looked like the cashier wasn’t even trying to ogle them as much as one should. It was a little strange though to see him begin to gather their clothes in a pile behind the counter though. It was when they heard a safe door shut and click that the hairs on the back of their head really begin to stand on end.*

Vinyl: My dude, I’m liking how this looks on me, but what are you doing with our threads?
Cashier: Yeah…conditions apply.
Octavia: What!? Oh, you thief!
Cashier: Hehe, I’d call this a fair trade. You’re free to leave as you are, or…
Octavia: Or what?
Cashier: The beach is holding a swimsuit model competition today - how convenient! Be the winners that you gals are, and get out there and compete!
Vinyl: Ha, consider it done!
Octavia: We could just walk away, Vinyl…but fine.

*The gathered crowd outside wasn’t hard to miss, and lo and behold, the competition accepted walk-in entrants. Vinyl and Octavia signed up, and minutes later they were walking down the boardwalk and showing off their newly “purchased” swimsuits. The crowd gave quite a hearty cheer for the duo, but not quite like a couple other entrants who came equipped with either more exotic bikinis or sexier figures. It wasn’t too surprising that the duo walked away in fourth place out of dozens of other contestants. Vinyl whooped at their placement, and Octavia even managed a small smile throughout her ambivalence. Their prize was a gift check to a high-end steakhouse dinner for two.*

Vinyl: That’s right! DJ-P0N3 is in the house! Errr…beach! You’ve all been wonderful!
Octavia: The gift check is nice, but I’d really like to get our clothes back.

*Both girls made their way back to the kiosk but found it to be closed. The mail slot opens up.*

Cashier: Nice work, ladies! But…you didn’t win.
Octavia: Wait, what!?
Cashier: Still, I had fun. Return my bikinis for your clothes, and we’ll call it even. 

*Vinyl’s daisy dukes and Octavia’s sarong are pushed out the door mail slot and land at the girls’ feet. The duo look at each other, somewhat suspicious, yet resigned to the arrangement. The bikinis come off, and they’re returned through the mail slot. Silence followed.*

Vinyl: ‘Kay man, where’s the rest?
Cashier: I didn’t say I’d give back all of them, haha!
Octavia: …figures.

*Octavia unfolds her sarong and rewraps it as rudimentary sundress.*

Vinyl: I love rockin’ the tits out look, man, but we took the train here!
Octavia: And once again, I have to save our skins.

*Octavia starts walking away, but not before tucking the gift check in Vinyl’s shorts.*

Octavia: I’m going home. I’ll send a ride for you…which may be a while.
Vinyl: What am I supposed to do in the meantime!? Ugh!
Octavia: I don’t know. Enjoy some free tube steak on the beach as an appetizer?

*Vinyl’s face drops as Octavia disappears around the corner. The idea turns her on though.*

Vinyl: Heh, I do like my tube steak hot and well done…