Stop The Press!

Over the weekend, the Canterlot Chronicle published this article penned by Pleasant Plume:
Over time, various clubs have come and gone, some stay longer than others but for one reason or another, they either get with the times, or they go out of business.  Every now and then somepony will come up with a hare-brained idea for a new club and I had the unfortunate experience of being tasked to review it and interview their chosen DJ.  The Press is a little hole in the wall club on the seedy side of Ponyville far from anything important.  Here in this little dive, they've tried to re-created the look and feel of the clubs from fifty or sixty years ago.  That's right, they tried to make a modern club by repeating the mistakes made by club owners sixty years ago.  Yeah, we'll see how that works out for them.
The musician (and I use the term very loosely) chosen to fill the air of this hovel is Casey Scratchovich, an enthusiast with no particular style or specialty, just a sister of the owner.  Having no particular ambition she just sits behind the dj booth and plays whatever she feels like and gets paid for it.  Cushy job.  Maybe I should find a job that requires absolutely no talent or effort to maintain.  Not really.  I'd rather know that I'm actually using my abilities to make a difference in the world around me.  In her own words, there is absolutely nothing special about her at all.  I have to agree.
Before coming to work at The Press, Miss Scratchovich just did odd jobs around Equestria with the hat down for a few bits here or there.  Calling herself 'DJ Creep', she's always been a drifter, begging for her bits and pretending to have talent.  She says she hasn't had any kind of social life in this time but seriously, what else is she doing with her time at night?  WHo does she stay with?  I bet she has quite the list of stallions or mares who'll let her in and given her normal bitless state, one can only imagine how she pays the rent.  Lately, rumors have placed her with a one John Morris quite frequently. another no-talent non-contributing reprobate bum who is perpetually trapped in a childhood fantasy about being a pirate.
But whether she has any kind of redeeming quality or not is beside the point really.  She's the DJ now of a bar which is run by a cross-dresser, a discharged royal guard, and her brother whose ability to hire real talent seems compromised by nepotism.
If you ask my advice, you'll avoid this particular distraction and stay on the beaten paths of real clubs with real DJ's who actually care about the music they play and the atmosphere they create.  Until my next assignment!