“Well that was a colossal waste of time!”

As soon as the gang had departed the warm but totaled Software and Games, Smolder threw her arms to the heavens and broadcast her exasperation to all within earshot. Apart from her immediate companions who all felt similarly on some level, the decently average sized crowd of Ponyvillians left over from the earlier scramble paid little mind to the outburst, with only those trotting by casting cursory glances before returning to their holiday business.

“Don't just blame yourself, Smolder,” Silverstream consoled the frustrated dragon. “I would have had one too if that nasty griffon hadn't wedgied me by my thong.”

“Guess I'm not the only one who took damage down there,” Gallus mused jokingly even though nobody was really in the mood for it. “Smashed my balls on some snowboarder punk's head while landing, and the little bastard screwed me out of the system I was going for. Nice one too.”

“Well Yona almost had best computer in store!”

“Was it a Yakard?” The griffon inquired sardonically, knowing full well of Yona's brand loyalty.

The yak huffed indignantly. “Of course it was Yakard! Yona want best system in world for Ocellus, but little fillies beat slow yak to the grog! Yak must train harder, get faster so she can crush-!”

“Guys, we aughta' take this someplace else,” Sandbar cautioned the group. “Ponies are really watching now.”

It was true. They were now being observed by several sets of eyes that coolly took in the procession of moody teens who were loitering on the steps of the possibly defunct computer store. Even though they were practically heroes to the townsfolk, a feeling of exposure couldn't be helped at that point. Having no further reason to hang around the joint and a desire to find a more secluded spot to sit down and hash things out, they took off into the market square.

The square wasn't too big, so it only took a moment to come across the next major business having a sale. Curiosity forced Silverstream to fly up to the glass and cup her talons against it. The others were more restrained and kept to the sidewalk even though they struggled to see through the darkened panes. An up close encounter wasn’t necessary to ascertain that the shop wasn't having problems with unruly customers – the silly song those inside were chanting about sharing and caring made damn sure of that.

“Ugh, us dragons have had that one crammed into our skulls so much that our heads will probably collectively explode on the next full listen, Can we please get a move on.”

To the benefit of Smolder's frayed nerves, the next few shops didn't have annoying choruses singing away their troubles within, but they did share calm and sedate presences. They just had regular old customers stopping in to chat with known shopkeepers and possibly buy something special for the occasion. Things got more lively at the next establishment, which was a true Ponyville institution.

As usual for a weekend holiday, there was a queue right out the door of Sugarcube Corner, and a few of the victorious deal hunters along with many of those who had lucked out could be spied waiting in line. Gallus craned his neck and bobbed his head several times, trying to possibly catch a glimpse of his new friend at one of the bistro style outdoor tables on the curb, but the elusive colt was nowhere to be found. Sandbar saw the griffon's interest and asked if they all wanted to pop in and drown their sorrows in cake and coca, but nobody could find any appetite for consolations at that point.

Beyond the bakery and on the far side of the greater town square, things were far quieter. They were entering what was usually described as the more artistic side of the town, where wide thoroughfares were flanked by rows of colorful domiciles and artisan shops that catered to many different types of clientele. While pretty much everything under the sun that was considered to be art was represented, almost all the businesses had shut their doors for the holiday. In warmer months, all it would take is a fifteen minute trot through the area to find street painters and poets, traveling minstrels and troubadours, and all other forms of entertainers practicing their respective talents, eager to please and possibly earn a few bits in the process.

Another staple of summertime in Ponyville was almost weekly live music from groups local and abroad. One of the smaller venues was a bandstand ringed by park benches just off the way, and the group decided that a deserted park was as good a place as ever to privately discuss the next action. The bandstand itself had been sealed up pretty good for the off season, so everyone chose to just sit on the closest benches to recuperate after the horrid ordeal. Gallus would have sat as well, but as soon as he tried dull pain lanced through his groin, so he stayed upright and in the least painful position.

“Well, Gallus?” Smolder fidgeted on her seat, trying to achieve some modicum of comfort. “Since you're kinda calling the shots here, what's the next step?”

The griffon knew that since he was the one to raise the suggestion of buying a brand new system for Ocellus, the status of leadership in the endeavor would be bestowed upon him until dictated otherwise. His friends would be looking to him mostly for advice and guidance, but what they didn't know was that going to the store and buying a new machine was as far ahead as he'd bothered to plan, and that he hadn't even entertained the possibility that things could work out so poorly.

It could be plainly seen that he and his friends had gotten nothing out of that chaos except some lumps and bruises, and the expressions worn by them revealed that they didn't think it was possible to find what was desired on such short notice. If Gallus couldn't provide that possibility outright, then he could at least try to keep morale up in the downtime.

“Don't give up dudes. Maybe a pawn shop or flea market will have what we're looking for...”

Smolder didn’t miss Gallus’s mild tone of disgust at his own suggestion. Nor did she miss his sidelong stare off into space.

“You don’t sound convinced.”

The griffon scoffed. “Because I’m not. Every time I’ve been to one, they’ve always tried to scam me into paying way more than the street value on items. All they really care about is jerking punters around and flipping stuff for the highest profits possible. And I’m willing to put up with that for Ocellus’s sake.”

The dragon completely understood where he was coming from, but she wanted to know if Ponyville even had places like that regardless. “Alright, let’s say that becomes our only option. Is there even anything around here remotely worth our time?”

He could only shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Alright then. Sandbar?”

The pony answered back, even though his input would go rather unvalued this time. “He’s right. Apart from where we just were, Ponyville is pretty dry when it comes to cutting-edge tech. There’s Barnyard Bargains, but all they really carry are farming supplies. Even if they had a working machine for sale, we wouldn’t be getting it for a bargain, that’s for sure.”

Smolder pressed on. “So, we’d have to try another town then?”

“Something like that, but the only other towns in the area are so small they don’t have mayors or even weather patrols. Ponyville’s all we got.”

“Then we’ll have to go further. Canterlot’s only a day’s train trip away. A chariot would cut travel down to a few hours tops, weather pending of course.”

While Sandbar and Smolder got down to loosely plotting their next move, Gallus mentally pulled back and kinda tuned them out, and not wanting to just stand around looking like an idiot, the griffon's restless legs took him on a tour of the area. The little pastel cottages and trinket shops of which many were closed up for the entire season, and the deserted streets fit his dejected mood and possibly served to perpetuate it further. He was well enough aware to stay within earshot, but he'd lost line of sight many paces back.

Then he came upon a business that, judging by the fresh tracks going into the shop and the lit up display was indeed open, and it was one that he knew rather fondly.

Speed of Sound was one of his favorite haunts, and it was really the only place in town that catered to all the needs of local music nerds like himself. He used to stop in all the time and buy new albums and mixtapes whenever funds allowed, and one of the store's regulars – one Vinyl Scratch – was really on the up-and-up when it came to the latest music and genres to hit the scene. After chatting it up with the mare several times, he ranked her as being pretty high up on the totem pole of coolness. Over the autumn and early winter seasons though, his visits had grown sporadic and it had been about a month since the last one. Studying for the semester finals along with the regular schoolwork kept him weighed down, but with those out of the way and the prospect of a few weeks time of freedom to do as was pleased, the itch had returned with a vengeance.

And it didn't hurt that they were also having a clearance sale just like everybody else.

Then he had a brief flash of doubt. After the bust that was shopping for Ocellus’s replacement system, he didn’t want to be seen as an insufferable jerk by spending bits on himself even though he had plenty to spare. Damn it! We were supposed to be heading back with empty pockets and a bitchin’ new system for O! Where did we go wrong?”

The more that thought nagged him the more he realized that he needed a break, they needed a break. The only chance of finding anything retail in Ponyville was the store they had just departed, and the establishment was going to need some serious renovations before selling again. In his mind, nothing more could be done that morning and it had been too long since he’d last hit the mixing deck.

“Yo Gallus! Where'd you fly off to?!”

The shout from a far-off Smolder snapped the griffon's attention away from the store and towards the airspace above the gazebo, where he easily spotted her form hovering above the rooftops. She pirouetted several times, trying to find the lost griffon, until Gallus decided to just make himself known with a sharp trill. She had heard that since she whipped her head around in the general direction and peered down into the town, but she seemed to still be struggling to locate him. He trilled again, and when she finally pinpointed him he waved a forelimb to signify that he'd definitely heard her.

“You called?” he asked with a hint of displeasure when she touched down in the middle of the street.

The dragon walked a few paces to the side of the road Gallus was on. “Uh huh. Sandbar and I were hatching a bit of a plan to get into Canterlot, then I noticed you missing. What are you doing way out here?”

The griffon didn’t bother correcting his slumped posture and melancholic demeanor. “Dunno. Wanderin’ I guess.”

“That doesn’t sound like the Gallus I know.”

“Hmph,” he callously waved his talon. “Sure.”

Smolder then took a few steps back and scrutinized the storefront she’d landed right in front of.

“What’s this place? I don’t think I’ve been here before.”

Gallus joined in on sizing up the little hole-in-the-wall shop. “Speed of Sound. It’s where I go to buy my music. After midterms I’d been meaning to stop in and make a new mixtape or two, but was never able to make it out this way until now.”

The dragon found a loose chunk of ice that had most likely fallen from the nearby roof and absentmindedly kicked it to the curb. “Yeah? And I was going to buy some nice gems and possibly a color TV, but now that we’re invested in other things I’ve had to put wants aside for Ocellus’s need.”

“And I’m right there with you,” he gasped out while stretching a rear leg. “But Smolder, we’ve barely had time to recover from our first attempt. We need a break, I need a break.”

“Are you kidding me?. We were all sitting around for like twenty minutes while you wandered around. You had your opportunity right there.”

“Do we have to argue?”

“I’m not arguing,” she grumbled. “Well, not yet. Just wondering what’s up with you is all?”

If Gallus hadn’t felt so lowly he would have taken more offence to the questioning, but he still didn’t disguise tempered annoyance “What do you mean what is up with me?”

“Well, from the moment we wake you’re practically shoving us out the door, dragging us through alleys and warehouses to get a new system, then after one tough break you don't want to take the next step forward. Seriously dude, what gives?”

A flame ignited within Gallus's azure eyes, and he chuckled darkly while pacing a bit. “What gives? What gives?”

He then rounded back upon Smolder. “What gives is that I've been beaten both mentally and physically today and I can't even begin to wrap my head around what the next step should be!”

“So you're just gonna give up and spend bits on yourself?!”

“I'm not giving up, Smolder! And I wasn’t planning to spend money on anything for myself, but you know what, maybe I should. Maybe after that shitshow I just want nothing more than to unwind, nurse my aches, and doing the one thing I'm great at is the best way to do so!”

While Smolder and Gallus’s discussion slowly morphed into an argument, the other four had finally caught up to them. Yona and Sandbar were in the lead, and they pensively watched the display of raised voices and exaggerated bodily movements, each hoping the other would step up and try to talk some sense into the bickering duo. Ocellus and Silverstream were bringing up the rear, and as soon as they stopped the hippogriff began nibbling impulsively on her claws while the changeling steeled herself.

They all wanted to help her so badly, especially Smolder and Gallus. But when things started getting hectic, the focus went from confident optimism in finding a new system to finding anything workable and taking it by any means necessary. Sneaking through the warehouse and betraying ponies’ trust wasn’t cool, and the reasoning for doing so at that time didn’t hold up to personal scrutiny now, especially since things truly went downhill after that point. Fighting through a storewide mob for a box of steel and plastic was not only not worth it to her in the long run, but totally went against the spirit of the holiday that they all should be celebrating.

That was why she resolved to put the computer hunting on ice right then and there – if not for the sake of herself and the occasion – then at least for the sake of her friends.

“Smolder? Gallus? If I may?”

The dragon and griffon had become so engrossed in one-upping each other that they had mostly forgotten about their audience until a wild changeling appeared and interjected herself directly between them and their argument. Ocellus capitalized on the momentary shock, taking center stage and getting her ball rolling before the shouting match could be resumed.

“I-I appreciate what you guys are doing for me, I truly do. But before my computer failed we all had something that we desired, a certain way we wanted to spend our bits and enjoy the holiday. I’m sure none of us ever envisioned spending it breaking into warehouses and fighting through mobs.”

She couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her nose. “Honestly, I should have drawn the line then, but knowing and feeling how much helping me out made you happy pushed me into a state of inflated confidence. That’s why I wasn’t opposed to going through the warehouse or using my powers on that employee, and why I got this bruise on my leg too.”

The changeling gestured to her right hoof where an injury unnoticed by the rest of the gang was hidden under the parka sleeve.

“You both have wonderful Ideas for helping me get back in the saddle, but above that I just want all of my friends to get along and have a happy holiday. And quite frankly, after all that we’ve been through, I’d kinda like to not have to think about finding a system for the time being, and just let us be us.”

After Ocellus’s admission they didn’t feel like arguing anymore, but they were still openly glaring at one another. Usually that’s as far as any intervention would go for spats within the group, leaving those at-odds to sort things out the rest of the way, but today things would go a little further.

“Changeling right, you know. As yak, Yona understands passion, no passion strong as yak passion after all. Yona want to play game with full party too, but if friends keep blindly rushing around for new system and getting on each others nerves in process, what happens when replacement found? If everyone resentful and bitter then it’ll show out on battlefield. And what is point of gaming with friends if not on good terms?”

Gallus and Smolder had now cooled off to a point where more rational thought was possible, and they both could now see merit in Yona’s technified wisdom and Ocellus’s wishes.

“Fine. We’ll take a break for the time being, clear our minds of the whole thing and try to salvage the day. But mark my words, we’ll be picking up right where we left off later. We dragons may be slow in setting goals, but once the path is chosen we like to adhere to it. I’m sure you can understand that, Gallus.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I do. You hang out with Gilda long enough certain things filter down, y’know. But we can’t just keep ripping each other new ones each time things go south. Gotta take a deep breath and respec your mind sometimes. So? We good?”

With things settled between the two for the second time that morning, claws were shook and a certain tension that had been weighing the group down during the earlier mad dash faded away.
Despite the aftereffects, the group was back to its usual candor. It didn’t matter if they found a system for Ocellus in that moment, because what did matter was right with them the whole way.

“Well, I don't know about you guys, but I need to do a little shopping at Carousel If you know what I'm saying.” Silverstream punched a fist into her open palm. “What do you say, Smolder? Wanna hit the boutique with me?!”

“Ahah,” Smolder laughed apprehensively. “I think I'll take a raincheck on that one. Maybe some other time.”

The hippogriff's face fell. “Aww shucks.” Then her expression perked back up. “Ocellus, do you want to be my shopping buddy? I'll carry you the whole way there, sans barrel rolls.”

Ocellus glanced down at her custom boots which were not only holding up quite well to the elements but had proven to be virtually soundless while sneaking, and shuffled her hooves slightly. “I don't really have any need to visit the boutique. It was fun last time for sure, but fashion isn't really my thing, soo...”

Silverstream looked to her third fourth and fifth potential shopping buddies for any inclination of them wanting to travel with her, but all she got were similar negative responses.

“Wow, really tough crowd,” she huffed, but was quick to simply move on. “Alrighty then, I’ll fly solo.”

Smolder grabbed the hippogriff by the forelimb to prevent an immediate takeoff without thought. “Hold up, hold up!”

“Oh! Did you change your mind!” the fixed in place friend excitedly inquired.

“No, no, I’ve already made up my mind. I just wanted to know if you know if its open? Rarity’s outta town along with her sister, and I can’t think of anyone she could easily rope into running it in her stead.”

“Hmm, I didn’t think of that,” Silver admitted. “Looks like I’m gonna find out!”

With that final proclamation, Smolder released Silverstream and the hippogriff immediately took flight, blasting a fine mist of snow all over the place as she powered up into the sky, then banked over the rooftops and out of sight.

“Alright, if anyone else wants to do their own shopping, this is the only chance you’ll get today.”

The statement from Smolder that felt more like a question forced those who remained to mull over what they truly wanted out of their holiday.

Sandbar was the quickest with his response. “I kinda wanted to get a new tank for my turtles, but the pet store is closed for the time being so I’m gonna sit on as many bits as possible until they open again.”

Nobody missed the pony’s emphasis on what he actually wanted to put his bits towards, but he wasn’t the only one waiting.

“Yona does have something worth looking for that may or may not be found in ponystore before us. Yak doubtful of device’s existence so far from homeland, but with store so close may as well look.”

“Glad to hear I’m not the only one interested in music here,” the griffon sighed happily. “What is it that you’re looking for? Because if it exists in Speed of Sound, I’ve most likely seen it.”

“Yona would gladly share details about what she’s looking for, but unlikely that nonyak friends would understand without viewing it for themselves.”

“Okay then, I won’t press.”

“What about you, Smolder?” Sandbar asked. “Ocellus says we all wanted something.”

“Well, I was going to look for a newer color TV to replace my aging set, and If I couldn’t find something within budget with a remote I would just spend a quarter of my coin on some nice gems and sit on the rest until I could. Lord, this whole talk about what we wanted business is making me feel like I’m a greedy dragon only looking out for her own interests, but I gotta ask...

“Ocellus? What is it that you were hoping to get out of this Hearth’s Warming?”

The changeling who had no problems asserting herself in order to reunify the group retreated into her hood slightly when the attention was focused upon her solely, but still found her voice nonetheless.

“I was… just gonna buy myself a replacement pair of boots so my hooves wouldn’t freeze, but then I gave these a try.”

She held up a hoof to show off the boot that was covering it, examining it with a look of restrained awe. “I don’t know what manner of magic Rarity imbued into these, but my hooves are the warmest they’ve ever been, so that problem has been solved by Silver’s early gift.”

“So it’s settled then. We crash here for an hour while Silver is out and Yona can try finding her thing. Sound good?”

The other four expressed their assent to Smolder in their own little ways. Gallus conveyed his by pushing the business door open and heading inside. The atmosphere inside the tiny shop was the polar opposite of the computer store. Instead of a doorway jam packed with bodies vying to get through, he was able to enter unchallenged. A closer look once the griffon’s eyes had adjusted revealed to him that besides the hazy blue stallion proprietor whom he’d had plenty of business with before, the store was perfectly empty. That lack of shoppers meant that the accompanying shouts and screams of them squabbling over who got what were absent as well, allowing the natural ambience of the shop and the soft jazz playing throughout to reach the griffon’s ears.

The others, who were at least curious to see what this particular shop had on offer followed after, the visitor bell chiming rapidly as the weary bunch followed through. The received the same stimuli as the griffon, but the added noise of group entry rousted the shopkeeper from a morning slump, and the earth stallion greeted his potential customers with a smile and wave.

“Gallus! I had a feeling that at least you would show up! How you been?”

Despite all the earlier debacles, the griffon still found it within himself to grin and shrug. “Alright, for the most part. You?”

The stallion with a cutie mark of two reversed quavers on the flanks leaned back in his desk chair and began working the kinks out of his neck. “Eh, same ol’ same ol’. Was hoping that having a storewide sale would spice things up, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.”

Gallus already knew what he wanted regardless of any markdowns, but the sight of all the untouched shelves left him a bit aloof. It was generally a popular store, and every time he had come in before there were always a few other customers poking around for new and interesting music. But today – during a sale no less – it was devoid of life.

It was something the music nerd quickly inquired about. “I saw that, but it looks like we’re the first to come in. Usually this joint is poppin’, what’s up with that?”

“Well,” he leaned forward and rested his hooves on the countertop. “Given that Software and Games just had its whatever-the-buck-it-is sale, I’m guessing that everypony blew their bits on a new computer. What’s the point of visiting here if you have no more coin to spend on music?”

A wry but pained grin graced Gallus’s beak. “We were there, dude, but we totally crapped out on everything. We needed another place out of the cold to crash for a bit, and I saw that it’s fifty percent off for mixtapes, so…”

That brought him back a bit. “Oh yeah, sure thing. Take all the time you need, take a look around. Maybe you’ll find something extra you want to trot away with?”

The griffon suppressed an irritated twitch that tried to travel down his tail from the well intentioned insinuation, not wanting to betray his thoughts even though he was among friends.

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

Gallus left Noteworthy to his own devices and headed deeper into the store. The other four, having already made up their minds to stay as long as the griffon did, ambled along behind him. Much like any other store, the place was filled with shelves of ts specified merchandise, with dedicated stands placed right out front which were loaded with the hottest new releases in the most modern formats. The era of both rolled back the further in they got, until they got down to equestrian classical music recorded on archaic wax cylinders.

The blue griffon bypassed all of that and disappeared into a space that was sectioned off from the rest by an office dividing wall. This little area had a small raised platform on one side, and the microphone stand sitting front and center confirmed Smolder’s suspicion of it being an incredibly cramped stage as did the amplifier stacks that hemmed in on either side. The other occupiers of the precious space – the machines that Gallus was interested in – were arranged in rows along half of the back wall, and all the way to the divider on the right.

He went up to one of the mixing and recording consoles – something that looked relatively modern – and began fiddling with its buttons and switches. Being well acquainted with that particular model meant that he was able to power it up and prep it for mixing quite efficiently. With that sorted, he put one of his newly acquired blank cassettes into the slot dedicated to dubbing. Then he scanned the large cassette shelf that hung above the station for artists and genres that fit his fancy.

Smolder knew that what Gallus was doing was similar to recording a movie in some respects. The obvious was the use of film in both mediums, and recording onto said film. Of course he wasn’t physically cutting and splicing together a masterpiece, but it was still enough to at least grab her interest.

“So basically, you’re picking out random songs you like, and recording them onto one tape?”

The griffon continued to cherry pick artists he was familiar with. This took a bit of time as these were sample tapes, with plain white written labels instead of any kind of artwork. Despite the atrocious scrawl that passed for text on the side of each box, he was able to produce a decent selection which was placed on a table next to the machine, positioned there for the sole purpose of holding such a pile like that.

“That pretty much sums it up, But it’s a bit more involved than that. The difference between a bad or good mixtape comes down to how good the mixer is – whether or not the track selection matches the intended theme and how clean any fade-ins or outs are – that sort of thing.”

The more Gallus rambled on about the ins and outs of mixing, the more disinterested Smolder grew until she bid the griffon adieu and went off to explore the rest of the shop, everyone else doing much the same. Based on what she had seen initially, Smolder hadn’t banked on becoming enthralled in anything, but a deeper look and a chance find changed that frame of mind.

I didn’t see this coming in.

She moved away from the stereos on display and into the aisle that had a shelving unit filled from floor to ceiling with television sets. Well, she had guessed it would be something like that by sound alone – even though they had the volumes set to respectable levels. There were at least twenty screens going on, and they were tuned to several different stations.

Most of what she saw was musical in nature, with performances and interviews of artists from every genre imaginable on blast. Interspersed were some advertisements for musical and audio equipment that were on a constant loop, and a few of the sets had some more popular television shows that she was much more familiar with, and some reality shows that she had no interest in whatsoever. The one with the two deadbeat colts who always failed hilariously at life could always draw chuckles from her and bellowing guffaws from Gallus, and the other one with the myopic cynical filly who thought and acted in stark contrast to the equestrian world around her that was all the rage at the moment.

That show was way further up her alley, but the episode was a rerun and the wall of overwhelming entertainment could only capture the attention of an adolescent mind for so long, so she eventually moved on to try and locate some friendly company. It only took a turn around the corner for Smolder to spy Ocellus browsing through the portable music players on sale, and once close she almost gasped at the price of one of the models.

“Is that for real?”

Ocellus paused her hoofing through the plastic packaged players and grinned Smolder's way. “Sure is. Seeing as I might be without a computer for some time, I figured it would be prudent to find some other ways to entertain myself.”

Smolder pulled one of the discounted players that had caught her eye off the rack and looked it over. The body of the blaze orange player almost matched her own scales, and a purple, crystal dragon skull graphic adorned the back.

“This is more Gallus’s thing, but I don’t need him to tell me what a sweet deal this is.”

“I know, right. And for a Memarex too.”

The dragon decided to hold onto the one she had just picked out, and provided they didn’t mysteriously find a computer for sale, resolved to buy it on the way out. Looking through the rack further revealed that all the players hanging there were the same model, but every one had a custom design.

“Isn't this so much better, Smolder? A nice, relaxed holiday shopping trip among friends. Sure beats fighting everyone in town over towers of metal and plastic, that's for sure.”

Once again, the dragon's thoughts about the current dilemma came back around. Except this time her friend's words rung truer than ever and she couldn't help but agree.

“Yeah, I get ya'. But this problem will be solved at some point in the near future, mark my words.”

Ocellus gave her a coy grin. “Oh, I don't doubt that. We always do.”

The changeling continued to browse the selection, until hooves parting the little packages revealed something attention grabbing. “Look at this one.”

She held up one that was a stunning metallic teal color which was close to matching the hooves that held it. It may have been very simple in relation to some of the more wild or intricate designs, but that only served to bolster the practical changeling’s affinity towards it.

“I’m totally gonna get it.”

Smolder was about to head over to the neighboring shelf for a pair of decent headphones when she spotted the player with the lime green sea turtle livery, and she knew exactly who would go for that one.

“Hey! Sandbar!”

Smolder got up on the tips of her toes and scanned over top the shelves for her pony compatriot and spotted a pair of mammalian ears loitering by the studio. The started rhythmically bouncing as the pony they were attached to trotted her way, and he popped around the corner a few moments later.

“What’s up, guys?” he asked, but any further inquiry was silenced when he saw what the fuss was all about. “Oh… wow. I’ve never seen players like these on sale like this before.”

“Yeah,” the dragon concurred. “And I found the perfect one for you.”

Smolder handed a plastic encased package over to him, and when he saw the paint job he chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Sea turtle, huh? However did you guess?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she teased. “Maybe because it’s on practically everything you own.”

“Alright, you got me there.”

They both were startled when the storefront door whipped open, the little bell peeling out in protest as a careless body plowed through. The bundle of excitement who was now back from a solo shopping trip touched down by the growing group, a plastic baggie bulging with Sugarcube Corner goodies in one set of talons and a styrofoam cup in the other.

“Wow!” The hippogriff exclaimed just as the door gently shut and sealed out the cold again. “You wouldn’t believe how crazy it is out there! You’d think everyone would have blown their holiday bits by now, but no! Creatures are still zipping around without a care, including me! And the boutique was closed thanks for asking!”

Not wanting to go any further down that particular route, Smolder deflected by pointing at the bag. “I see you at least found something to buy.”

She looked down at the bag and smiled. “I was hungry, they were selling, so I grabbed a bag of sweets for the gang and a nice cappuccino for me!”

“Cappuccino?” the dragon’s claws went to her hips. “I thought you weren’t supposed to have that much caffeine.”

The hippogriff took mild offence and defended her choice. “Whaat! I was a little tired after the computer store so I got something to juice me up. I drink responsibly doncha know.”

Silverstream took the extra long straw into her beak and loudly sucked down the last remnants of the espresso drink, tipping the cup to get right down at the last dregs of caffeinated goodness.

“Yeah, about those sweets?”

Silverstream glanced a rather wild looking avian eye at the pony who had plodded over and held out the bag while still sucking away. Not intimidated in the slightest, Sandbar hoofed through the treats for something agreeable, and pulled out a thick butter pecan cookie in a paper half-sleeve.

After getting nothing but gurgling air up the straw for some time, the hippogriff spat out the straw and inhaled deeply. “Ahhh, that hits the spot! Woo!”

Smolder wasn’t all that big on sweets, but she still reached into the bag.

“Where’d Yona and Gallus go?”

“Gallus is still working on his mixtape in the back studio. Yona is… I dunno,” the dragon mumbled while clawing through Silverstream’s bag and settling on some kind of biscuit thing with rainbow sprinkles.

“Ocellus?”

The changeling in question poked her head out from behind the shelf and trotted over. “I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

The bag was offered to her, and she graciously peeked inside. Her face than fell slightly. “Oh, you didn’t...”

“I totally did!”

She pulled out what was easily the most decadent of the treats in the bag. Opening the small protective container revealed a honey filled éclair, topped with an electric blue frosting and sprinkled over with a generous amount of rock candy. The changeling knew that the pastry was one of the more pricey items on the menu, and if given the choice she would have preferred something more economical – especially if it was a gift from a friend.

“Silver, you didn’t have to spend fifteen bits on me.”

“I know, I know, but I was trying to figure out what everyone liked and I remembered that you loved the blue blitz, so I got that for you.”

“Okay, well, thanks.” Ocellus surreptitiously licked one of her cute little fangs. I’m gonna enjoy this!

“Yona found it! Yak actually found it!”

Thunderous hooves pounded in time with the shouts as the yak galloped out of the vintage section and slalomed around some freestanding racks, skidding to a stop right before her friends. They were instantly taken aback by the bulky stitched leather harness she now wore over her dress, which resembled something agricultural equipment would be hitched to rather than any kind of music player. At any rate it raised many questions that were of a similar vein.

“Alright. I guess I’ll be the first to ask.” Smolder jabbed a claw her way. “What is that?”

“This is Yakard-Bell WonderRecord portable music station.” Yona gestured proudly at the device. “Yak always wanted music on the go, but collection of Yakistani folk music is only on vinyl. With new player that does both, Yona can now hear ballads from homeland anywhere!”

“And that’s considered portable?”

She turned to reveal the record turntable that was literally strapped to her body, hanging over her right side like a regular saddlebag. It was pretty well obscured by its holster and all that they could see between the gaps around the various brass switches and dials was that its steel body was painted a mossy green. The central, exposed area was where all the action took place, and a miniature axe head acted as both a dust cover and retainer for the record and arm when in its current vertical orientation.

“Yep! Yona have no trouble carrying player around thanks to back harness. And player doesn’t just play vinyl.”

Yona reached back and unsnapped two flaps in opposing corners. Behind flap number one was an old-school analog AM/FM radio that would have looked more at home as a stereo head unit in some classic private airship or personal carriage than crammed into the corner of a portable device like it was. Sprouting out just above it was a long, flexible antenna that reached several hooflengths into the sky for extra reception in mountainous terrain.

And behind flap number two was a full fledged cassette deck that looked just as dated, with a standard opening tray mechanism and a row of polished buttons just below it. And below that was a slot for the older eight and four-track form factors with its own set of similar controls.

Despite its apparent age, Smolder was shocked by the feature-rich player’s many party tricks. “Wow, they really packed that thing to the gills with options. You yaks sure know how to make incredible tech.”

Yona grinned, eyes playful. “Don’t you mean best tech?”

“Hmph. Something like that.”

“Speaking of big things,” Silverstream set her empty cup on the ground for the time being and reached into the bottom of the bag for the biggest item in there. “I got you a pie.”

The apple cider crust pie contained within a covered tin was a little something the Cakes had cooked up recently to take advantage of expanding clientele. It was inspired by a Yak dish that used an incredibly potent ale in the recipe, but due to high importation costs and equestrian alcohol laws they had to make due with locally available ingredients. It wasn’t a real hit with yak students when they first rolled it out, but once Professor Pie explained the situation to a few yaks who in turn carried the news to many more, they started warming up to the imitation of the original. It hadn’t fared all too well on the flight over, with whipped cream smeared all over the clear plastic lid, but that wouldn’t faze Yona in the slightest. The yak greedily relieved her talons of it and started to scarf it down.

“Try to tone down the crumbs a bit Yona,” Smolder cautioned. “We already had a claw in trashing one store, no need to do it to another.”

Yona did slow down in eating the fresh pie, and even used the tin as a crumb catcher of sorts while browsing for a pair of headphones to go with her monstrosity. She shoved a half eaten slice into her maw and picked up a set of massive studio monitors that would look absurdly bulky on the average head but would probably look right at home over a yak’s ears.

Since none of the vanity players the other four were looking at shipped with headphones, they also took to finding something up their individual alleys. Smolder was okay with the color scheme of her chosen device but didn’t want to be seen with anything too outlandish or vibrant over her head, so she went with some entry level cans from a reputable brand that wouldn’t stand out.

Sandbar and Ocellus were much less picky when it came to quality or appearance, and made decisions based around what simply looked and felt right. The pony was done looking the moment he found ones that resembled turtle shells, and the changeling felt the same once she found a pair with heart shaped drivers.

Their hyperactive compatriot wasn’t having nearly as good of a time shopping. Silverstream had been out of the loop for a bit and wanted to get back in, but In her caffeine addled state she couldn’t make a concise decision on which Memarex to get. She bounced between the shelves looking for items that fit the bill and would meld together nicely, constantly weighing the options. Her chosen pair of seashell headphones were found first, and the closest match to them was a solid chrome purple player that was a little more expensive.

After picking out their gifts for themselves, the five hung out just outside the recording station, chatting amongst themselves until they heard shuffling movement on the other side of the divider, and Gallus emerged from the opening a minute later with the fruits of his labor stuffed into the bulging front pockets of his hoodie.

“Alright, I’m finished.”

He was at Silverstream’s bag in the next moment, plunging his claws in. “And it looks like leftovers for me.”

He produced a plain chocolate brownie, and proceeded to the checkout while undoing the cellophane wrapper. Of course Noteworthy had nodded back off at some point, so when the griffon got there he bit a corner off the brownie and rapidly tapped the plunger on the desk service bell in as irritating of a fashion as possible.

“Huh?! What?! What?!”

“You’re sleeping on the job, man!”

“Oh, I-Its just you.” Noteworthy stated through a yawn. “I swore you just went back in there only a moment ago.”

“Nah,” Gallus checked the time. “Took about an hour. Anyway… five for two bits?”

Gallus laid out around twenty cased cassettes on the counter and got his debit card ready as Noteworthy picked up his hoofheld scanner and started running up the bill.

Once Gallus was finished purchasing his cassettes everyone else started stacking the counter high with their players and headphones, and he carefully scanned through those items with affirmative beeps. While he accepted their differing forms of payment, Yona relieved herself of the almost nonexistent burden of her chosen player and dropped it unceremoniously onto the checkout.

The moment the mass of leather straps and steel thudded against the table, the lethargy within the shopkeeper’s whole being evaporated into a fit of foalish glee at the sight.

“Finally! I told Vinyl I’d get a buyer for it this time!”

Always prideful whenever she saw her nation’s tech getting the respect it was due, Yona pushed out the only question on her mind at that point. “How long has ponystore had WonderRecord for?”

The stallion was super stoked about talking about the oddity, and the griffon wasn’t complaining in the slightest. He himself had a muted interest in the device, and didn’t mind a little history lesson if it meant weeding out why It was marked down so much. Let them talk, Gruff always said. They’ll let something slip eventually
.
“Oh, that old thing’s been here long before I started managing the store. It spent the better part of thirty years collecting dust in the attic, but when yaks started staying in town I cleaned it up and tried to see if I could get any bites. Turns out Yaks are into the latest and greatest tech as well and aren’t really interested in old stuff like that. So I threw it into the sale to hopefully make room for modern stuff that will sell. It’s all functional and the battery still holds a charge. I can give you a demonstration if you like, for peace of mind of course.”

The purchaser of the antiquated device blew a stray hair out of her face. “Yona have no need for testing. Yak music players never stop-”

A silencing set of claws wrapped around her muzzle and pushed her head away. “Actually,” Gallus butted in. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Without missing a beat, Noteworthy carefully unfolded the harness and arranged it so the turntable was flat as possible. He then trotted over to the much more advanced audio setup that powered the store’s sound system and removed a twelve-inch vinyl record from the high-end turntable that topped the stack – the slow beat jazz cutting off abruptly. With record in hoof, he opened the top of the WonderRecord and gently set it down on the spindle, using equal care to set the specialized arm and close things up after.

Ducking under the counter for a second, he came back up with a set of portable stereo speakers and plugged them into the larger quarter inch jack. Then the power button was depressed…

Gallus felt the corner of his beak curl up slightly as Noteworthy struggled with the button for a second time. His sneer was then met with a sheepish smile.

“Forgot to turn the power on.”

The saddlebag opposing the player contained a proprietary battery that should have lost it’s viability decades ago, but when the large brass mechanical switch was twisted a dusty green diode lit up on both the battery and the machine, proving that it was quite functional. Of course, that was only one component of an entire system, and Gallus still kept watchful eyes on everything.

When the power button was depressed this time, the griffon heard the telltale buzz of the internal amplifiers and preamplifiers warming up to meet an impending need for their guidance. He briefly wondered what method was used for the amplification, then he saw the little vacuum tubes ringing the interior of the turntable steadily increasing in orange luminosity until everything was dimly lit, which could potentially serve a dual purpose of assisting operation in low light conditions. These were the first indicators of functionality, but that was all moot if it couldn’t actually play the record. A few adjustments to some dials for the RPM and size were made, and play was pressed.

They all watched with varying states of attention as the visible portions of the record began to spin, the trademark sounds of static from the analog medium popping through the speakers. Then an upbeat jazz number started up and eclipsed all else. The excited beat of some healthy drums backed up a big brass section demonstrated that the old device could still boogie despite its age.

The floor beneath suddenly started to shake as Yona started stomping away to the beat. Gallus paid little mind to Noteworthy’s panicked expression as the shopkeeper struggled to keep things from flying off his counter, or Smolder and Sandbar’s attempts to get Yona to stop or at least corral her away from anything fragile. His attention was reserved for the player that despite visibly bouncing off the surface never skipped a beat. Any other turntable would have most likely suffered a broken needle or drive belt slippage at the very least, but this crazy yak creation kept on spinning without a single fuss.

When the others got Yona under control and back with the group, Noteworthy got his wits back about himself and quickly powered off the device. Gallus himself didn’t have much to say initially as he was still staring down at Yona’s player, but with reverence and awe instead of scorn and skepticism.

“Alright,” Gallus stated methodically. “That thing is impressive.”

Yona didn’t share the same enthusiasm for that particular aspect of the device, finding it elsewhere. “Of course yakmade player survives yak stomp test, no other could. How much gold pony want? By gold Yona mean bits of course.”

The blue stallion looked confused after the yak had firstly offered gold in exchange, but once the currency was clarified, he shifted things around in search of the barcode sticker he was certain of slapping onto it at some point. “Did I not tag this?”

He picked the entire mass up to see if had possibly been placed towards the inside of the harness, but nothing of the sort could be found and set it all back down. “Oh well, looks like I gotta do things the old way. I believe I marked it down to six, no, fifty for the sale, but I’m willing to part with it for… forty bits.”

“Thirty.”

Gallus usually didn’t invest himself in how his friends spent their bits, letting them make their own life decisions. But with the player having grabbed his attention and Noteworthy having said some key words, he felt like exercising his hustle and seeing if he could work a sweeter deal. The shopkeeper wasn’t too bad himself, and chose to try meeting in the middle.

“Thirty-five?”

The griffon rubbed the underside of his beak in contemplation. He was still weary of the ridiculously low price for a boutique item, but he knew the seller well enough to trust that there was nothing foul at play. He then turned to the actual customer.

“What do you think, Yona? That sound fair?”

“Yona would gladly pay double for that! Yak is down!”

Just as quickly as his ego after a good haggling had inflated, the tack was brought to the metaphorical balloon and Gallus smacked his palm against his forehead. And things were just starting to go well again...