“Yona can’t wait to get prize before griffon!”

“Hah, in your dreams!”

With a deep guffaw, Gallus put some bits into the cereal vending machine and reached for the button of his choosing. There were a variety of different types and flavors, and the little boxes came in either single-serving sizes, or in the griffon’s case, a double boxed set of Rainbow Sugar Chunks.

The vibrant, red boxes had the glorified image of an anthropomorphic parrot with a rainbow crest of feathers, who was cradling an overflowing bowl of the product on the front panel. They may have only contained one prize in one of the boxes, but Gallus was a growing bird and a single serving just didn’t cut it anymore. The twin screws that held the box in whirred to life, spinning backward to push it towards the glass, and stopping when it fell into the hopper at the bottom. It was only a matter of pushing open the flap and pulling it out, and he moved onto the milk.

Standing up to the glass, he identified the cheapest dairy-based white milk, inserted some coins, and slapped the button for it. The plastic milk bottles were held on downward sloped tracks, with a system of small gates holding them back. When the small gate opened, the selected bottle slid out and thunked hard against the bottom, and the gate quickly closed back up on the next one in line.

“Yona is kidding.” The yak pressed her bits in the cereal machine slot, then smashed the button for her choice – the button in question sporting several decent cracks in the illuminated plastic. “In yak culture, it is always last eaten item of meal which gives best luck!”

“Is that so?” Gallus fished his milk out and flashed it past the yak’s eyes. “In that case, I better save my cereal for last. Not that I would ever leave hot chow to get cold.”

With an already full tray cradled in his right forelimb, the griffon stuffed the milk into his pocket and made his way to the usual spot. As he passed by tables sparsely populated with bleary-eyed students picking at their first meal of the day, he could hear all the little snippets of conversation that would have otherwise been masked by the roar of a full dining hall. If he was the type for gossip, then listening in for juicy tidbits would have been the thing to do in that moment.

The conversations were interrupted somewhat by Yona’s stallionhandling of the milk machine as that too would have been obscured by a full complement of diners. But when it was seen that it was just a yak student trying to tilt the machine in a bid for a free drink, interest was quickly lost and they returned attention to their meals. Especially since the machines had been bolted to the floor after the last major offence and couldn’t be messed with so much anymore.

An excited shriek that was instantly recognized as belonging to an excitable hippogriff located in his general direction of travel sounded out next – another thing that most likely would have been drowned out.

“You’re wearing them! You’re finally wearing them!”

In stark contrast, Gallus could barely make out the changeling’s diminutive response.

“Well, after yesterday evening I figured that anything was better than those painful monstrosities. They feel really good so far, I’m excited to see how they fare outdoors.”

Having crossed the distance to the group’s usual booth, he slid into his usual spot and got settled in. One of the benefits of breakfast was the fact that Sandbar always had his at home before trotting to school. This gave him the opportunity to get more comfortable than usual, which he did by allowing his wings to unfold slightly and rest against the back cushion. Silverstream, who always took the window seat on his side, had already done the same, with both being careful not to touch sensitive feathertips.

Across the tabletop, both Ocellus and Smolder were forced to scooch towards the window to make room for Yona, who just barely fit on the end of the bench. Her tray was loaded with two plates of vegetarian breakfast, and an empty bowl with a bottle of soy milk and cereal box standing by.

Battle Sweet Stones was one of the few yak-made cereals that the school carried, and it was her mainstay. It didn’t come in regular single servings – its single-serving was about the size of a standard equestrian box. The neon green cardboard had the image of a yak running towards the viewer, a wailing battle cry on his snarling lips. A giant warhammer was hefted over his horned helmet – poised to deliver a devastating blow. But instead of steel and wood, the hammer was made out of the sweet stones themselves. And instead of a worthy foe to swing down upon, there was a massive wooden bowl filled with milk.

None too concerned with his yak friend’s choice, Gallus moved his eyes over towards Ocellus and Smolder, who were crammed up against the window, and the changeling was getting ready to dig into her meal. The dragon hadn’t even touched hers yet, and when his avian eyes met slitted reptilian ones, they both froze. The connection only lasted for a blink, then the dragon averted down to her untouched plate and picked up her utensils.

The griffon did the same, and with a frown as well. He didn’t want to start gushing about earlier quite yet, so he focused on quickly preparing his breakfast for consumption by picking up the salt and pepper shakers. He seasoned the plate of bacon and eggs that everyone had been served to his liking. The toast on the side by a sealed cup of fruit was next, and a few swipes of a buttered knife got it ready to go.

The sounds of silverware clinking against bowls and plates rung out loud and true, but the lack of communication was much more distinct. Gallus may have not wanted to spill his feelings quite yet, but that didn’t mean that a meal in silence was desired either. So, the first topic besides that to come to mind would be his icebreaker.

Bacon was great. Greasy, fatty, and salty pork would bring even the grouchiest of griffons to the table. But the horror that was plant-based imitation bacon would make even Guto roll in his grave. The smell alone was enough to set off a predator’s gag reflex, and Gallus just couldn’t wrap his mind around how the herbivorous species could even tolerate the stuff. His stomach gurgled slightly at the mere thought of actually ingesting it, but stuffing a strip of real meat into his beak brought that back into check.

With another strip of bacon held ready in his claw, he pointed it in Ocellus and Yona’s direction. “You guys are missing out with that imitation hay junk, you know. How do you stomach that nastiness again?”

Ocellus swallowed her nibble of hay bacon and was quick with her response. “As I’ve stated before, we changelings have no problems eating meat – physically. But some of us choose not to and stick to eating stuff that doesn’t think and move under its own power. And I also happen to like the taste.”

The griffon looked away with a disturbed expression. “Yeesh. What about you, Yona? Surely yak-made hay bacon is way better than the rot here.”

Yona had already consumed one of her plates of the breakfast and was about to move onto the second when Gallus raised his question. “Yona freely admits yak cuisine is second to none, but all yaks have that comes close is grass jerky, and it’s nowhere near as flavorful as this.”

“Yeah, and the real deal is even better than that.” The griffon held up a strip in offering. “Want to try it again?”

Those at the table could see Yona visibly recoil and a pallor sweep across her muzzle. “After last time, Yona has resolved to stay on meat-free diet.”

“So,” Smolder drummed her claws down upon the table. “There is something yaks aren’t good at?”

Yona slammed her hooves down upon the table. “Hey now! There are plenty of things yaks no good at!”

“Woah!” The dragon feigned shock. “I hope there were no other yaks around to hear that one.”

“Yak heard that!” an irate voice roared from across the hall. “Yaks best at everything!”

The laughter that had been brought back to the table at a yak’s expense helped elevate Gallus’s mood to the point that he could better deal with his feelings. The griffon leaned on an elbow and eyed up Smolder, who now had a strip of bacon in her claws. Any other day, Gallus would have gladly fist-bumped or toasted her after a well-timed joke and the like, but he just wasn’t feeling that much better yet. Then, he saw the dragon’s apologetic smile that was more like a bridge of peace of sorts, and with a grumble, he picked up a fresh piece of his own and knocked it against hers.

“Dude... are you alright?” Smolder bit her lip. “What happened back in the library was… really stupid...”

Gallus held up his left talons in a defusing gesture. “Nah, nah, what I did was also stupid. Joking about, well, you know…”

She glanced around nervously, then nodded. “So? We cool?”

“Yeah, we’re good. But next time I’d rather take a slap to the face than a kick in the dong, okay.”

“I hear ya.”

With touchy, feely matters now resolved, Gallus moved onto the next topic of interest. “So Silver? Got that magazine from yesterday?”

“Sure do!” Silverstream chirped as she leaned back in her seat – away from her simple plate of fried eggs with strawberry jellied toast – and opened the top of her black satin messenger bag.

Her talons disappeared inside and came back out with the rolled-up magazine that she slid across to Gallus. He spun it around so it was facing the right way, then started flipping through pages while simultaneously trying to tear the top off of his cereal box. Not wanting to make a mistake and spill the sugar chunks all over the table, he left the box slightly opened, and focused solely on locating the Spell Questing advertisement that listed both the minimum and recommended specifications.

After flipping through several pages, the correct one was located, and he poured over the technical data. “Alright, all we have to do is get a system that meets the minimum system requirements and we’re golden.”

“And those are…?”

Smolder reached over and pulled the magazine toward herself slightly so she could read it out for everyone, struggling slightly with the inverted text. “It says the minimum requirements are an Entil Two-Fifty Six, a VGA card with four megs, and a MIDI sound card.”

Ocellus took a break from slowly nibbling on her fruit salad to chime in. “But those are individual components. What’s it say about pre-built systems?”

The dragon got closer in and squinted for the small print. “For prebuilds, it recommends a PowerPear based computer or... an Amimmodore Thirty-Two Hundred.”

Gallus pulled the magazine back and gave it a final once over before ripping the top fully off his cereal box. “See what I was saying? A machine like that will be easy to find, and it will be super cheap, too.”

“Now,” the griffon brought his box over to the bowl and gave it shake. “What will my prize be this time?” He then muttered. “It better not be a lame sticker like before.”

“Ooh! Ooh! Can I have it if it’s a sticker!” Silverstream almost screamed in the griffon’s ear, then backed off slightly. “It’s for my collection.”

“Yeah, sure,” Gallus agreed without a second thought.

The box was tipped, and the cereal slowly and noisily filled the bowl. About halfway through the pour, a large object slid out of the box. The way it fell implied that it was decently weighted, and Gallus immediately set down the half-empty box and fished it out.

When the griffon saw what was held within the small plastic wrapper, his eyes widened, and he whooped in triumph. “Oh snap! I got it! I finally got one of the rare ones!”

The plastic was viciously torn away, and the lucky bird beheld his prize. It was a small claw held game system – gray in color and rectangular in shape – with a small monochrome LCD display in the center. On either side of the bottom edge of the screen were a pair of large red buttons, and they were labeled Left and Right, respectively. Below the screen, and close to the bottom of the device, was a row of three buttons. Going from left to right, they were denoted as Game A, Game B, and Time. Rounding off the simplified control scheme was a small red LED that would light up when powered on – located below the bottom left of the screen.

“Yak was not expecting griffon to get so lucky. What is prize?”

“It’s a Game and Time; a small gaming device with a single game installed on it. And this one isss…”

The griffon examined it more thoroughly, flipping it around several times in search of something that showed what the title was. All he could find molded into the back of the device were some generic manufacturing notes – along with a governmental eyestrain and fatigue warning. With no other way to find out, he pressed the power button to see what was what.

With a set of talons cupped around the tiny, non-backlit screen, he watched it come to life and display its title – which got him excited.

“Ooh! It’s Juggle!”

As Gallus began to play on his find, Ocellus once again cocked her head slightly in confusion. Back at the hive, the only thing that ever got placed in food containers was food itself, and those containers most certainly wouldn’t have had any knickknacks hidden inside. So it was always strange for her to see stickers, or in this case, an electronic device, come out of her friends’ cereal boxes. It wasn’t like she hadn’t ever won prizes before, having won several rounds of spider toss last Nightmare Night and trotting away with the spoils. But those were all hoof crafted curios made specifically for that occasion – not something mass-produced on an assembly line.

However, that didn’t dissuade her natural curiosity. “Um, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s so special about… that one?”

Gallus answered while keeping his eyes on the action. “Usually, the prize is almost always something mundane, like the sticker I suggested earlier.”

“Oh well…”

The dejected sigh brought Gallus’s attention over to Silverstream, who had her sticker collection book out and a pout on her beak. The momentary loss of focus caused the griffon to mistime a button press, and he cursed softly as the balls all fell to the digital ground.

“Damn it.”

Gallus switched off the device and set it next to his plate. “As I was saying, it’s usually something small like that. But sometimes you get lucky with something better, like...”

He reached over and turned the box so the changeling could see the images of potential prizes printed on the side. “A disc with a computer game on it, a mixtape with the latest and greatest hits, or in my case, a little claw-held like this.”

He held up the device that could also be operated by hoof – screen side facing away so that the others could see the goings-on. As he passed it in front of Silverstream, she looked up and her sad expression brightened slightly. It was held before Ocellus the longest, and multifaceted eyes took in every detail of the gray box.

“You can give it a go if you like.”

A simple shake of the head was the response he got out of the changeling. “No, that’s okay. It’s your prize, you should enjoy it.”

“Fair enough.”

He was going to go back to playing, but the conversation moved too briskly to allow it.

“Speaking of awesome prizes, Yona is about to get hers, but faster!” the yak exclaimed while vigorously shaking up her milk bottle.

The cap was almost ripped off, and she downed half of it in one go. The box was mutilated next, the folding tabs all but hanging in tatters as she held it up over her head and started pouring the cereal directly into her awaiting mouth. The waterfall of cereal continued on its course that almost directly led to the stomach, and she was so enraptured by this that the true prize went forgotten, until…

Yona brought the almost empty box back down and peered into the dark bottom, a frown on her lips. It deepened when the leftovers were sloshed around, and there were no extraneous sounds like a crinkling wrapper or a weighted object hitting the sides. Pouring the cereal into the bowl and hoofing through it garnered the same result – which led the yak to the dreaded conclusion.

“Yona thinks that awesome prize is now inside her.”

The yak visibly slumped in her seat, and Ocellus was quick to comfort her friend’s loss by bringing her hoof over and rubbing the poor yak’s back. “Don’t worry too much, Yona. I’m sure you’ll get something good next time.”

After that show, the other four at the table chose to focus on finishing up their rapidly cooling meals. Gallus in particular wolfed down everything that remained on his plate and in his bowl, eager to finish up and get to Sandbar's place. He just knew that the pony would be sleeping in and that he probably wouldn't bother setting his alarm, so flying over there and being that alarm was the best bet for getting him involved.

The griffon pushed his empty bowl and plate into the center of the table, pocketed his prize, and stretched in preparation of physical activity. Wait a minute.

Gallus grabbed up his box, Yona lethargically sliding hers over as well when he looked her way. Whenever he – or his friends – had cereal, it was almost tradition to tear out the box tops and hold onto them for later use. They all knew his financial situation wasn’t the best, and gladly allowed him to have their empty boxes which would have otherwise been chucked in the bin. Following the dashed lines was easy enough, and they went into his jacket pocket afterward.

Now properly ready to go, he tried to jump out of the seat but somebody aggressively clearing their throat held him.

“And just where do you think you’re going? It’s your turn.”

Gallus knew that it was his turn to clean up, but he had the perfect excuse to dodge duty this time. “I’m going to pick up Sandbar so that by the time you guys are ready he’s ready. You know how that pony sleeps.”

Smolder smirked while pointing his way. “Clever. But you’re gonna be pulling double duty next week.”

The griffon waved her off. “Just put it on my tab.”

He then saw that Silverstream had also finished her meal and was already hovering overhead. She wasn’t his first choice for a flying buddy due to her being easily distracted by happenings on the ground, but it looked like she was ready to dip regardless of any offer, so he made it anyway. “Hey Silver, want to join me? You look like you could use some fresh air.”

“Do I!” Silverstream was already hovering overhead, a look of desperation written into her face. “It’s hotter than a steamvent in here! Let's go!”

As the hippogriff blasted off towards the double-doored exit that linked the cafeteria to an outdoor pavilion, Ocellus voiced a concern.

“Is it just me, or did Silver seem a little more… flighty than usual this time? I mean, she’s always like that, but… I dunno…”

Gallus held his talons out in dismissal. “Who knows. She’s just a little overdressed and probably wants to get outside. Nothing to worry about.”

The griffon, in all honesty, couldn’t care less if Silverstream was flightier than usual, but he did appreciate the fact that if he didn’t take wing now, the hippogriff might get distracted and fly someplace else entirely. If that happened, it certainly wouldn’t have been the first time.

Sandbar was spending his first morning of freedom from study wisely by soundly sleeping in as long as he desired. Heavy snores came out of the pony’s muzzle as a thin trail of drool dripped onto the bedsheet, which was part of his super king-size bed set that took up a decent portion of the room.

The room itself was reminiscent of a beach bungalow, with lime green painted walls and exposed wooden beam construction just like the rest of the house and many other residential buildings in Ponyville. There was a nice sized window facing east with white venetian blinds mounted on the frame, which were currently drawn.

Next to the bed and placed so as to not be affected by any glare from the window, was a rectangular folding table that was serving as a computer desk. But this day, the table was devoid of its burden – a dust-free mark being the only signature left of Sandbar’s EDM.

To the right of the table an aquarium rack that held two glass tanks aloft for easy viewing and maintenance. The top one was filled about halfway with freshwater, and some logs and rocks had been placed on the gravel base with a few breaching the surface. On the left side there was a wooden platform with a ramp that led down into the water, and on that platform was a small food dish with a few brown crumbs left in it. The turtles that called the aquarium home were currently sprawled out next to the dish, basking in the radiant warmth of the heat lamp above.

Below the turtle habitat was a fully filled freshwater aquarium that was chock full of life. The bottom was almost halfway obscured by the massive variety of aquatic plants that had been planted within, and their leaves and stalks reached to the surface. There was also a smattering of larger rocks and pieces of petrified wood on the bottom, and if one watched the tank long enough, they would start seeing the resident fish flitting through the foliage.

The maroon siamarese betta slowly meandered his way through the shoots and leaves, looking for a few morsels of algae and possibly a place to rest. He liked to be away from all the action, tucked into a corner near the surface with good cover. The school of neighon tetras that he shared the tank with that hung out halfway down didn’t feel the same and were always out and about, chasing each other around the rock formations. The hardiness and natural bioluminescence of the species made them a great fish for new aquarists, and the lazy pony was always thankful that Professor Fluttershy recommended them.

Hovering around the bottom were several catfish, rooting around in the rocks for fallen pieces of the fish flakes they all were fed once daily. If they weren’t doing that, then they were resting on the bottom with their eyes cast upward in search of predators. And a large sucker fish had stuck itself to the front glass, not only finding nourishment in the algae growing there but also inadvertently keeping the habitat clean without nearly as much intervention.

Across from all that was a squat, rectangular entertainment center of a dark cherry color, which held up a decent sized twenty-five-inch television. In the dual cubbies below were two game consoles; a Super Impalavision in the left, and a Videlectrix Eight-Hundred in the right.

The Impalavision was a somewhat new machine with a rather contemporary two-tone gray housing; light gray for the top half and a much deeper shade for the bottom. There were two controller ports on the front, and just above the left one was a purple power button and a black reset button above the right. On the top about halfway back was a hump in the plastic that ran horizontally, and in the middle of it was the cartridge bay. And in the back were some false cooling vents that went across the top and down the sides.

The older Videlectrix was a different story. Instead of looking like a sleek, exciting game console, it resembled some kind of kitchen appliance from a bygone era. The most telling difference was the front panel, which was a brown woodgrain plastic with the company logo stenciled in silver on the right side. The rest of the box was comprised of textured plastic, with a top piece that had grooves running horizontally, which went a little over halfway back. Behind that was a raised portion with a rectangular panel that was angled up towards the user, bordered by a yellow pinstripe. In the center was a cartridge port, and flanking that were rows of three switches that were used to adjust the console’s settings.

And as with most things that sat around in an open cabinet, both consoles had a layer of dust on them, but it was the newer one that clearly got more attention. Whereas the eight-hundred had an empty cartridge port, the Impalavision had a game in it and was ready to run. And while the older machine’s controllers sat on top of it with the cords wrapped around the joysticks, the newer’s were plugged in and waiting to be used – or for their loose cords to trip up anyone who got too close.

On the far side of the bed, a doorway led to a small attached bathroom with a white toilet on one side, a sink with storage below on the other, and an equally white old porcelain legged bathtub in the back. Above the toilet and sink were two giant square mirrors that directly faced each other, and when one was looked into, the image would be reflected between the two at ever smaller intervals – creating an infinity effect. In the tub, there were several bathing implements leftover from last time, and there was a persistent drip of water out of the faucet.

Just off on the adjoining wall was the closed door leading out to the hallway, and next to it was a bookcase chock full of both new and aged tomes that were either haphazardly sticking out into the air, or had been stacked horizontally instead of the proper vertical. Their topics were varied, and ranged from more contemporary things like video game design and software development, to older trades like electrical and mechanical engineering. The softcover graphic novels along with a few hardcover adventure and science fiction ones were from a time before computers entered his life, and it showed in the aged covers and pages. There were even a few textbooks out on extended loan, but their borrower was glad to be able to finally put those down for the time being.

Finishing off the room was the fact that it was in a state of light mess, with some bits of clothing scattered across the floor, a good number of soda cans and milk bottles sitting empty on the TV stand and around the base of the desk. There was also a mess of Power Ponies comic books arranged into uneven stacks under the bed, ranging from very early examples to the latest releases.

“Is he in there?”

Gallus cupped his talons against the frosted glass and struggled to peer into the darkened space. His ill-adjusted eyes were unable to discern much besides vague shapes, but he did spy a sizeable bulge on the bed, which was enough proof for him.

“Yeah, he’s in there alright.”

“Cool! I’ll go ring the doorbell!”

“Eh, don’t bother.”

Silverstream followed a pointed black claw to the bottom of the window, where she could see the latch that was open on the other side.

“The blinds are up and he left his window unlocked.” The griffon gripped onto the window frame. “Both of those are big no-no’s back home.”

With only a minor fuss due to some ice buildup, he was able to work the window up and pull himself inside, While the griffon’s entry was quick and stealthy, Silverstream’s was anything but covert. She ungainly pulled herself through the frame and all but flopped onto the floor, a few clumps of snow following her right in. Rolling his eyes at her lack of skill, Gallus smoothly slid the window shut and flipped the lock out of practice more than anything else.

The flying duo now put their attention onto the big bulge under the blanket, which was still snoring away despite the intrusion.

“Wow,” Silverstream remarked with a faint whisper. “He’s still sound asleep even though we weren’t exactly quiet coming in.”

A wry grin could be barely seen gracing Gallus’s beak in the dim light. “Then that means we’re gonna have to take more direct measures.”

With that, the griffon went up to the bed, grabbed onto Sandbar’s upper body, and gave him a good shake while shouting into his ear. “Wake up dude! It’s hearth’s warming day!”

Sandbar’s head suddenly rose off the pillow, but the pony was so out of it that he couldn’t muster any more of a response. With eyes flitting lazily, he struggled to see who had woken him, but when he matched the voice to the blurry face he grumbled and flopped back onto the pillow.

“Mmm, piss off, Gallus.”

The sound of soft snoring once again came from the pony, and the griffon made a repeated attempt to wake him, but all that was returned was an almost unguided hoof that gently pushed him away. “Ummpf, five… minutes…”

Once the hoof jabbed into his chest fluff was pulled back under the covers, Gallus formulated his next plan, and it was one that brought a crooked smile to his beak. “Alright, plan C it is.”

“Ooh! What’s plan C?”

“It used to be that I would slip my headphones over his ears and blast some metal until he woke, but last time he broke my cans and got tinnitus for a week after. So we’re just gonna pin him down and tickle him till he wakes up.”

The griffon moved back in towards the closest side of the bed, and the hippogriff plodded softly to the far side.

“Hey, aim that lamp at his face.”

Silverstream looked around herself, trying to locate whatever Gallus was referring to until her forelimb brushed against something. That something was a small reading light sitting atop the nightstand, and she slowly – but squeakily – angled it so the pony would receive the brightest light possible.

With everything positioned correctly, she looked to the griffon who now had his right forelimb in the air with all his talons out. “On zero, turn it on and let him have it.”

She watched him begin the countdown, with one, two, and three talons curling inward at an even pace. Wingtips were raised, ready and waiting. When all four talons had balled into a fist, she twisted the dial on top of the lamp.

Sandbar only had a second for his eyes to crack open lazily, and only a moment to register the bright light in his face and the shadowy figures just beyond before they descended. The blankets were ripped away, and two sets of clawed limbs grabbed onto his upper body. Before he could fight back, four feathered wingtips found their way directly to his most ticklish spots behind each ear, and on either side of his neck.

“Wake up Sandbar! It’s Hearth’s Warming Day!”

With a wailing cry, Sandbar began to thrash wildly, hind hooves kicking out in reflex at that which was accosting him. When his brain registered the feeling of the feathers, he switched to flailing his forelimbs in a desperate ploy to get the assault on that area to stop. Rational thought finally took hold, and he forced his way out of their grasp with a snarl.

“Alright! I’m up! I’m up!”

Giggling hippogriff and griffon retreated past the foot of the bed as their victim shoved down his covers the rest of the way and practically jumped out. He hadn’t pushed the quilt and sheets quite enough though, thus they wound up on the floor along with pony due to them snagging his legs.

“Woah! You alright there dude?”

The answer Sandbar gave also came with a pointed glare. “I would be if you hadn’t tickled me to death.”

He quickly pulled himself from the bundle of blankets and faced his friends, but he had forgotten one very basic thing.

He always slept in the nude.

Gallus didn’t care if the pony was naked, but what he was concerned about was the massive case of morning wood that was on full display. He nervously glanced around for Silverstream, fearing that she had seen it all as well. But Silverstream being Silverstream, she was no longer standing next to him and was currently off examining the aquarium stack. The griffon internally sighed in relief but started pointing frantically at Sandbar’s exposed junk.

“Dude,” he whispered as silently as possible. “Cover up.”

With a soft oh, Sandbar began to search for his boxers, but just as that occurred, Gallus spotted a hippogriff beginning to turn her head in their direction. The griffon vaulted over the corner of the bed and launched towards his friend with a forelimb outstretched. He was able to land just in time to cover her eyes and push her head away from the scene.

However, instead of an expected cry of protest, Silverstream giggled.

"Oh, are we playing a game?! Okay, you pick something and I try to guess it!"

With prying eyes occupied, for the time being, the pony took that moment to find his shorts that he knew were on the floor someplace, and the griffon played along. He looked around for something, anything that could provide inspiration. It wasn’t too hard to find it in one of the many tropical themed posters and paintings that hung on the walls, depicting locales far removed from equestrian winter.

“Yeah, sure. Okay, what has tough brown skin, is a fruit, and you can drink or eat it?”

Silverstream bounced up and down, “Oh! I know this one! Coconut?”

As soon as Sandbar pulled on his boxers, Gallus pulled his talons away and stepped to the side – one of them raised at the painting. “Yeah, its a coconut.”

The hippogriff pumped a clawed fist. “Yes! I knew it!”

The griffon took a recentering breath, and then addressed the lime green pony with a serious case of bedmane and still sizeable bulge under his shorts. “Alright, since you’re up now, you better get on with your morning ritual. Shops open up in an hour or so, and I don’t want to miss out on any good deals.”

Sandbar yawned deeply. “Yeah, sure. Just give me some time to get freshened up, and we can head out. You guys can play on my consoles if you like, and I also have a few cans of soda stashed under my bed if you’re thirsty.”

Sandbar disappeared through the door to the bathroom, only to stick his head back out a moment later. “And don’t worry about making too much noise, Silver. My folks sleep like rocks and won’t hear you.”

Once Sandbar retreated and shut the bathroom door, both Gallus and Silverstream leveled their attention onto the entertainment center and the offered consoles. “Hmm.” The griffon rubbed the underside of his beak. “Looks like an old Videlectrix and a Super Impalavision. I wonder what he’s got for games?”

“Oh! Gallus?!”

The muffled shout came from the occupied bathroom, and the griffon shouted back while trying to read some of the titles “Yeah?!

“See that switch by the door?! Can you get it for me?!”

He looked away from his possible future entertainment and searched around both the main and bathroom door frames for the requested switch. “Switch by the door… Switch by the... Alright, I see it!”

“Just press it once, and it’ll be all good!”

Gallus did just that, clearing the short distance in one bound, and pressed his palm against the large button. “I got it!”

“Thanks, bro!”

With the deed done, he returned to the entertainment center and began to sift through the games for something fun and interesting to play. Since a friend was with him, he made an effort to find one that was multiplayer. The pile around the dated Videlectrix was yielding few interesting titles though, so he moved his talons over to the Super Impalavision and felt that there was a cartridge already in the machine. Out of pure curiosity, he pressed the power button on both the T.V. and the console and scooted back to see what came up.

After the Super Impalavision splash screen faded away, gallus skipped through the opening movies by mashing the B Button. Once through the preliminary advertisements and sponsors, a loading screen prevented any further skipping. Even if he could have done so, the small tune that had just started playing through the speakers would have prevented that. He just could not place where he’d heard the building theme before, but it was just on the fringe of his memory. Then, as soon as the title card exploded onto the screen, it hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Holy shit! It’s Wonderbolts Mach One! I used to play the original at the Griffonstone train station all the time before it got switched out for a newer machine! Didn’t know Sandbar was into this sort of thing.”

Silverstream gazed his way quizzically. “But, I thought you said your fledgling years were terrible and tragic.”

And just like that, the young reverie ground to a halt. That once would have been the beginning of a scowl, and an end to any meaningful conversation. But now that things were better off in his life, he was more open to speaking about the past.

“At the time they were. But now that I’m out from under most of the hardship, I’ve been viewing all the little good things in a better light. I vividly remember when I put my first earned bits that could be spared into that machine and did the same every weekend until the cabinet broke and was replaced. After that, I kinda lost interest. It just wasn’t the same, y’ know…”

The hippogriff pondered that for a few seconds. “It’s like me and my first computer. It’s getting a little slow, but I don’t want to part with it yet. Smolder suggested I start saving up for a future upgrade, but I just love my Aris too much for that.”

“Aris?” He couldn’t help his flat tone. “You named your computer after your country?”

“Not my country,” She giggled. “My city. Yeah. It’s a tower; home is kinda like a tower. Technically, It’s an extinct volcano, but that’s beside the point.”

“Right.” The griffon sighed. “Everybody remembers their first, I guess.”

Silver clapped her talons together. “Well, If that’s the case, then how about we relive your childhood a bit and play against each other.”

The sound of the shower coming to life – though muffled by distance and a door – told Gallus that his pony friend wouldn’t be moving as quickly as preferred.

“Knowing Sandbar, we got some time to kill, so may as well. Have you played before?”

“Nope! But I’m sure I can beat you!”

The griffon grinned sardonically. “So that’s how you want to play it, huh? Alright then, but you better be ready to bring it, cuz I was the best back then, and I’m sure I’m just as good now!”

Knowing that they now had a game to occupy the time, Silverstream set the winter jacket she was holding onto the floor and sat down on it in front of the screen. Gallus fluffed his wings once and laid back on them, content to go without any form of padding between himself and the floor.

As they got into their match, they were unaware of some happenings on the ground floor. The switch that had been pressed without question had sent an electronic impulse down a wire that followed the home’s conduits to the kitchen area. The line terminated into a control box that sprouted out several more lines that went out in all different directions. One of those snaked its way down to the stove, and the signal it carried ignited one of the burners. On that burner was a nonstick skillet that was held within a metal contraption that was perforated so the flames could heat it effectively.

Away from the stovetop, an electric motor whirred to life. Atop the nearby refrigerator was a portable cooler with a small hole drilled in the side. The hole was covered by an insulative panel, which was being winched upward by a wire that ran up to the servo mounted on the lid. Once the panel was lifted fully, a miniature conveyor belt inside the cooler slowly pushed a farm-fresh egg out into the world and stopped as soon as that egg fell gently into a waiting trough that angled downward.

The egg awkwardly rolled down the trough that ended at an area just above one of the burners on the stovetop, and it reached that spot in no time at all. What it had rolled into was a bowl of sorts with a hole in the center that was much too small for it to fit through, but did hold it in place well. Two mechanical claws moved in from either side and clamped onto the brown shell. They squeezed down slowly and evenly until it cracked, and then started pulling away. The egg itself flowed out of its fractured vessel and down the hole. The mass of the egg white and yolk splattered into the waiting pan and instantly began frying.

As the egg cooked, twin toasters on the counter that were also wired into the system fired up and began toasting some preloaded slices of bread. Both of them had been strategically placed on slightly angled platforms so that when the toast was ready, it would be launched in a ballistic trajectory.

Every component was on its own timer that would be triggered by signals from the control unit, and each one was timed precisely to activate at a certain point. The timer on the toaster furthest to the left – the one that had been turned sideways – suddenly launched its payload into the air. The crispy toast flew vertically through the air with a small forward spin, but the current course would miss the waiting plate on the kitchen table by a wide margin.

Another timer expired, and a large measuring spoon that had been converted into a catapult launched a pad of butter at the rogue flier. At room temperature, the pad would have just glanced off the target, but a coil of heated wire warmed the spoon just enough to start melting it. The sticky butter struck right in the center of the spinning target, correcting its course so that it angled in correctly.

The now buttered toast touched down upon the paper plate, butter side up. The staged plate had been buttressed around the back with a rolled-up towel to keep it from sliding out of place as tossed objects landed. Speaking of such things, the egg in the skillet had transformed from a sticky clear blob into a nice firm white with a bright yolk in the center. It was done, and that meant it was time to be served.

With a loud metallic snap, the apparatus holding the pan catapulted it and its cooked payload towards the table. The pan was held fast at close to ninety degrees as the egg detached and carried on. Unlike the toast, its flight was much more erratic, with the white flexing and bending as it flipped through the air. By some insane luck, it managed to touch down on the toast with a wet smack, the yolk breaking on impact. The last thing to fly in the timed sequence was another slice of toast from the second toaster – which also found its mark.

Unfortunately, the victory for the contraption was very short-lived. The control box that handled the whole system began to smoke slightly and many things came to life at once. Catapults fired, toasters popped, and the burner flared up as another egg pushed out of the cooler and rolled down the trough to begin the process anew. Except for this time the circuitry was fried and every component was now operating out of sync.

Sandbar could just barely make out the background music of Wonderbolts Mach One, and his friends’ whoops and cheers over the din of the showerhead blasting away at his body. Despite the more than rude awakening, he was quite jovial about what lay in store that morning. Hearth’s Warming Day was to blame for some of that sentiment, as it was the day of mirth, spirit, rebirth, and above all else… presents.

Lots of presents.

At least it was that way when he was a foal. Now that he was almost a full-grown stallion, he became much more finicky about which gifts were of interest. Every year past puberty resulted in fewer boxes under the tree, and more bits in hoof to put towards whatever was desired. That didn’t stop his parents and extended family from finding him a few good stocking stuffers here and there, and while not all fit the bill, they were still well appreciated.

It was the best system in Sandbar’s mind, but circumstances the night prior had dashed the idea of self expenditure. He was saddened by Ocellus’s loss, and just like everybody else, weary of the plan to rectify that. He knew Gallus quite well now and knew there was no way in Tartarus the griffon could afford a decent, entry-level system without help. He may not have been able to buy his own gifts this time, but the bits were going to a noble cause.

Shaking his head of the winding thoughts, he grabbed the nearby bottle of shampoo and squirted it into his unruly mane and tail. As he lathered up the mane with his forehooves, one of his favorite tracks began to play, and he couldn’t help but hum along as he quickly finished up his shower.

“Yeah! I won!”

The hyped hippogriff’s forelimbs gesticulated excitedly, the controller gripped tightly in her right talons as she celebrated. Any kind of celebration was lost on her griffon competitor who took a close second, and he practically screamed at the console.

“What?! What the fuck was that?!”

He looked frantically between the console and the two-player split-screen showing Silverstream’s chosen flier doing her victory stunt routine. An overlay of the names of the other racers then popped into existence, detailing their finishing positions, quickest lap times, and elapsed time. He then glared at Silverstream herself, but she could only shrug innocently in response.

“I have no idea what happened! All I did was hit that wall and I was half a lap ahead!”

Sandbar had only been a spectator to the latter half of their race. He wasn’t wholly focused in on the action though, as the focus was on getting prepared for the day. Fresh clothes of his go-to color pallette had been retrieved, and he dressed himself while sitting on the bed. He was about to slip on his boots when he took another glance at the screen, but this time he kept his eyes glued to it. The way Silverstream was drifting around the long, sweeping corner was enough to capture his attention, but the way she careened towards the outer wall near the end of that turn immediately put him on the edge of his seat.

No way, she’s not gonna-

The pegasus collided with the barrier at a shallow angle, right where a seam in the world mesh was barely visible. Instead of bouncing off with a significant loss of momentum as per the intended design, the flyer stuck to the rail and suddenly rocketed down it at breakneck speed. This was completely surprising to Silverstream, and she was only able to inadvertently hold the proper angle for a split second, but it was enough to send her past the leader in a streaking blur.

Gallus was just as shocked by the sudden twist. It looked like he was going to start vehemently protesting, but that mindset was just as suddenly switched by him setting his beak and nailing the boost in a focused effort to reclaim the lead. He pulled out all the stops, hitting every apex perfectly and grabbing whatever boost powerups he could without sacrificing the best line. But even with the smoothest flying and efficient usage of boost, he was having a tough time of closing the massive gap she had opened up.

Silverstream, who was no stranger to random chance, did not look back as she blasted around the corners of the tightly twisting section that precluded the main straight. She may have learned quite a bit in her first ten minutes of play, but she knew that her competitor would easily catch up and retake the lead if a single mistake was made. So she kept as much focus as possible on the track ahead. In the periphery of her engaged sight she could see her own pegasus on Gallus’s half of the screen disappear around the bend. It was the final turn before the line, and Silver had to ride the airbrakes several times to make it round before straightening her flightpath and boosting like there was no tomorrow.

Gallus knew at that point that the writing was on the wall, but he still had one last ace up his sleeve. Not bothering to lift off the throttle in the slightest, he cranked hard into the turn and tapped the brake just before it began. The stallion he had chosen skidded through the air, outstretched hooves coming dangerously close to the inner barrier, but the one piloting him paid little heed as he pressed on full bore.

About half way through the turn, the boost was hit, and the extra thrust started to slowly force the flyer out and away from the desirable inside line and into the center of the track. Gallus did not relent, holding down the right arrow, throttle, and boost buttons as the outer embankment loomed. The griffon may have been away from the game for a bit, but the little move came back to him easily enough. Just when it looked all but lost, the turn became straight and Gallus followed suit, rocketing along the barrier with only a few pixels of space to spare.

Up ahead and about halfway to the line, he could see the boost contrail of Silverstream fizzle out. His was strong as ever, and there was enough juice to carry him over the line in the lead. That was the hope, but even with all the speed in the world, the leader just had too much breathing room and he could not close the distance in time to prevent her from taking home the checkered flag.

Before either of the players could get into any real argument over the outcome, a now fully clothed Sandbar hopped off the bed and butted in – voice laced with astonishment.

“That was incredible! Not only did you not know about that exploit, but you nailed it on the first try!”

Gallus glared at his earth pony friend heaping praise onto a cheater, but he had a good helping for the griffon as well.

“And great flying there in the end, bro.” Sandbar playfully punched him in the side. “You almost had her.”

The griffon simmered down a bit, but still grumbled. “Whatever.”

“Hang on!” A pinkish talon was pointed towards the lime pony’s face. “You knew about that spot?! Are there other spots like that?!”

He could only shrug in turn. “Uh, yeah. There’s dozens of little glitch spots all over the tracks. His tone then grew more resolute. “After one-hundred percenting the game, I’ve made it my mission to discover and document as many as possible.”

“Document?”

“Yeah.” Sandbar would have loved to spend his morning chatting about one of his passions, but an impatient keening from Gallus made him decide to just point Silverstream to publicly available information instead. “There’s a blog dedicated to cheating and speedrunning that particular series. Whenever I find something new or set a good time, I post it there.”

“Cool! Can I do that, too?”

“Anyone can do it, all you need is any game and a little drive to push the boundaries. I’ll share some good resources on the way to the store.”

“Alright!” The hippogriff turned back towards the television, and rolled her shoulders several times – her friend’s implication sailing right overhead. “Get ready to give up your secrets, game! Cuz, i’m com–!”

Not wanting to view his defeat any longer, and really wanting to just hit the road, Gallus got to his paws and unceremoniously switched of the console.

“Aww,” the hippogriff whined. “I wanted to find more glitches.”

“Some other time, Silver.” Gallus tapped on the face of his watch. “We gotta get to the shop while the getting is good. Speaking of which,” the griffon stepped away from the television cabinet and looked towards the now dressed pony.

“You ready to rock?” Gallus sneered. “Or do you need to shoot one off first?”

He got a sputtering, red muzzled response. “Dude! I’m not that desperate!”

“Yeah, just keep telling yourself that.”

Silverstream, who had gotten up from the floor and gathered up her jacket, butted in. “Oh! Oh! Does he have a toy gun?! Can I play with it?!”

Gallus facepalmed while Sandbar did his best to change the subject. “Um, yeah, sure. Maybe later.”

The faceclaw evolved into a languished groan. “Can we just move on from my out of control joke now?”

“Sure thing, chief. I’ll take point! Hold this!”

The hippogriff tossed her jacket at Gallus, who was wholly unprepared to catch it before his face was smothered. He pulled it down in time to see her pull an imaginary gun out of a hip holster, then cautiously open the door and disappear around the corner. Sandbar was quick to gallop after her.

“Silver! Silver! Wait!”

“Pew pew pew pew!”

The griffon trailed behind into the hallway and looked down it to see Silverstream in a shooting stance – aiming through the next doorway down.

“Alright broom, spill the beans! Where are the stairs?!”

“Silver, leave my poor broom alone,” Sandbar called out while pointing a hoof toward the other end of the hallway. “Stairs are over here.”

She immediately broke away from the broom closet and blazed past the other two with talons held low and together. They followed her steps, but at a much more sedate pace.

Gallus made to continue following her down the stairs, but before his paw could leave the landing, he was barred by a hoof.

“Look dude,” he sighed. “if it’s about the glitch, it’s really no big deal.”

Sandbar struggled to voice his thoughts. “It’s not that. It’s just... probably just me, but Silverstream seems a little…”

Pewpewpewpewpew!

Gallus grunted irritably. “Eurg, not you too.”

“What do you mean?”

Freeze! Criminal scum!

“Ocellus said the same thing before we came over, and quite frankly, I don’t see what she was getting at. Name me one day where Silver didn’t behave like a complete lunatic.”

He still looked troubled. “I know, I know. It’s just that she looks a little bit-”

“Sandbaaar!”

The shout from the lower floor ended the pony’s musings, and he yelled back down. “Yeah?!”

Silverstream poked her head into the staircase. “You never told me you had a robot in your kitchen! But I think said robot might have malfunctioned. Everything is freaking out and-”

“Godsdammit!”

Sandbar suddenly bolted down the steps two at a time and galloped around the corner. Gallus had no trouble doing the same, even if he didn’t feel quite as rushed as his friend. The hippogriff at the foot of the staircase had to jump out of the way of both as they barrelled into the kitchen.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!”

The griffon could only spare a glance at the hornet’s nest of cables, slides, and conveyor belts moving in a completely erratic fashion before the sight of Sandbar trying to scale the side of the fridge drew his focus away. The pony was now dangling from one forelimb draped over the top of the large appliance, the other blindly rooting around for something. When everything ground to a clattering halt. He dropped back down and hustled over to the range and made quick work of undoing several latches and pushing some arms out of the way. A hoof was then touched experimentally to the still hot skillet trapped inside a cage, and quickly drawn away with a pained hiss. Before the situation could get any weirder, Gallus intervened.

“Alright dude, what is all this?”

The pony blew on his singed hoof a few times, and then explained breathlessly “Just a little something I threw together. It’s supposed to automatically make meals, but as you can see, it still has problems. I thought I told you about it.”

Gallus shook his head as a months old unfinished conversation started reiterating itself within his mind. “You did, but I thought you were joking.”

A loud snap bounced off the walls as the undercooked egg was launched in their general direction. Sandbar was out of the firing line so he was safe from the errant projectile, but the griffon wasn’t able to get a pair of defensive forelimbs up to block in time and it smacked directly into his forehead.

“Ack! Why’s it always me?!”

A duet of giggles answered back.

“Woah! Looks like my creation has it out for you, dude!”

Silverstream’s first impulse after laughing was to try and clean the egg off her friend’s face. She tried to grab up some of the snotty goo in her talons, but it would immediately run through them and just worsen the mess.

“Can somebody just get me a towel?!” Gallus pleaded while trying to keep the unhelpful talons at bay.

Silverstream was quick to give up on her way and to find a towel draped over the back of a chair, which she tossed over to him.

It took some hefty scrubbing to get the egg out of his feathers, but even with it all wiped away, his crest was still all messed up. He self-consciously ran his talons through it to try and tame the askew feathers, but only succeeded in fixing it partially.

The hippogriff had been so fast in getting the towel to Gallus that she was unable to clean her own claws. She examined one of the digits that had egg on it, and gave it an experimental lick. She smacked her tongue against the roof of her beak several times, and then summarized her thoughts on the taste.

“Hmm, needs more salt.”

“Here. Use the rest of this.”

While the hippogriff took the offered towel and more properly cleaned up, Sandbar hovered over the end product on the dining table. If it had cooked fully, that would be a first, but he wouldn’t know until he popped the top and viewed the results. The top toast was lifted away, and a standard, plain looking egg was revealed. The runny yolk had ruptured in the automated cooking process, but that was how he liked them anyway. The meal as a whole was incredibly simple, but that didn’t stop the pony from grinning like a loon.

“Alright guys, gather around.”

Not having anything better to do with themselves, they did just that, and with dramatic flair, Sandbar announced his success. “Finally, after six months of trial and error, testing and tuning, I give you my first automated meal.”

Gallus gave him a snarky grin. “A plain egg sandwich. You must be really proud of yourself.”

He giggled. “Admit it, Gallus. You’re impressed.”

“Fine,” Gallus relented. “I’m a little impressed.”

“Come on, take.a bite,” Silverstream encouraged. “Tell us how it tastes.”

“Okay, okay. Way to push me through savoring the moment. Here goes.”

Sandbar held the sandwich up to his mouth and took a sizeable bite out of it. On any other day it wouldn’t have been anything worth writing home about, but as he thoughtfully chewed he swore that the meal produced with almost zero effort on his part that morning was just a little better than usual.

“Considering I didn’t have to lift a höof to make it, it’s alright. Could use a little seasoning, though. And a drink to go with it.”

He put the sandwich back on the plate and quickly retrieved some seasoning shakers from the counter, and a bottle of milk from the fridge. Another bite of the freshly peppered up sandwich got a more favorable response.

“Yeah, that woke it up.”

Gallus glanced at his watch, rear paw tapping in impatience. “Look, its awesome and all that you created that, but we gotta wrap this up. I told the girls an hour tops, and we’re just going past that now.”

“Working on it, dude. Gimme a chance to polish this off, and we can jet.”

Sandbar emphasized this by taking another giant bite of the now half-eaten sandwich.

“You know,” Sandbar spoke through a mouthful of bread and egg. “My uncle has a system up for grabs. He’s been trying to sell it for some time now.”

“Really?” Gallus asked, hope on his tongue. “What kind?”

The pony shrugged. “Videlectrix Eagle.”

The moment the name left his mouth, Gallus’s expression soured into revulsion. He then fixed the pony with a hardened eye.

“That system is bad news. Don’t give it to Ocellus.”

“Why? what’s so bad about it?”

The griffon didn’t really want to explain why such a system was so bad, so he didn’t mince words. “Where do I even start? It has a thirty-two bit processor, sure, but the data bus is only sixteen bit, which completely handicaps any kind of performance.”

Silverstream knew enough about computers to play games and compose web pages, but whenever any of her friends got technical, their jargon would fly overhead. So, it was only inevitable that she would ask for a clearer explanation.

“Um, regular computer user here. Can you speak a language that I understand?”

Gallus pinched the bridge of his beak. “Okay, let me try to put this in easier terms. Say you have the best burger patty in the world, dry aged, smoked, the works. Top it with the freshest greens and condiments... you get the picture. But all that greatness gets served in two slices of cheap white bread instead of a sesame seed bun.”

With a much more relatable description rolling around in her brain, the hippogriff stuck out her tongue in disgust. “Well, that doesn’t sound very appetizing, especially when it get gets all soggy.”

“Yeah, it was only on the market for a year or so before consumer outrage and multiple false advertising lawsuits forced them to pull it. Turned out that buyers didn’t like being lied to, especially griffon buyers.”

“What happened then?”

“After most of the dust settled, the ones who bought them were stuck with valueless bricks on their desks. So those with the skills modded them into something decent, but those mods are tedious to perform, and can cost as much as a new machine in the end.”

After the brief rundown on just what his uncle was trying to peddle, Sandbar was put off by his attempt at rectifying the situation going down in flames but was also glad that it had fallen through. “Oh, wow. I knew it wasn’t great, but I didn’t know it was that bad. No wonder unc wants to be rid of it so badly. Thanks for letting me know, mister know-it-all computer genius.”

The griffon grinned. “Just sharin’ my knowledge is all.”

“Okay then,” the pony ventured. How about a Pear Three my cousin might be willing to part with? Surely that couldn’t be as bad as-”

Sandbar was cut off when Gallus wrapped a forelimb around the pony’s withers and squeezed.

“I appreciate your help and all, but maybe you don’t try and give O a crap used system, yeah?”

“Y-yeah, sure,” the pony begrudgingly agreed. “But It’s not like I’m trying to peddle something like an old Text Equipment TE machine with some hacked Linux OS on it.”