A Birthday Carol (for Christmas)

     Did Rackatackatackata, or Racka for a friendly abbreviation, know that Dead Chia was dead? Of course he did. For Racka – the first and only Neopet of that most glorious and legendary the Neopets team user account, inheriting by birthright the knowledge and power to oversee and manage changes to Neopets.com – had been, in then Live Chia’s lively life, now Dead Chia’s closest friend. And vice versa. They had been, practically speaking, brothers. Racka had paid for the wooden platform on which Dead Chia now lay, as well as the brightly coloured window, piles of roses, and brass candlesticks that surrounded Dead Chia in his hidden shrine.

     Dead Chia’s shrine reminds me to reiterate that Dead Chia was dead, and that Dead Chia had never come back from the dead in any matter real or even imagined; if this were not true this story would be unremarkable at best. It may be unremarkable even now! But for both our sake, and that of our protagonist Racka, let us hope the contrary.

     Racka! He was a jaded and indifferent one, that grouchy ole’ Poogle. Befitting his Darigan colour, jagged at the edges and overworked until purple. Weary, dulled, far from kind-hearted but certainly not malicious. Yet, a fistful of candles upon a chocolate cake could do nothing to warm his heart, nor did the helium in a festive balloon raise and captivate his spirits. So, over the years, Neopets generally stopped trying to warm or raise him. The masses let him be.

     Though he liked it that way! Whether it was someone venting about the state of Neopets.com or offering a Happy Thoughts that the website was still around another year – it was all the same to Racka. He did not respond to anything, and Neopians eventually stopped pestering him. A mutual sense of disillusionment had settled amidst the fiery discourse.

     This story shall begin on the eve of the birthday of Neopets.com. In Neopia Central – where TNT HQ was situated, towering above shops and NeoHomes like the Snowager towered above yet another avatar-less victim – it was cool and crisp, with light winds and lighter flurries; an average late-afternoon for the third week of the Month of Storing. Running about the city were Neopets of all species and colours, making final preparations for the biggest birthday event of the year: purchasing new outfits for their various parties and revelries, restocking unbuyable cakes and chocolates, and wishing for the soon-ending Goodie Bag.

     From his third-floor office that overlooked the Bazaar, Racka had an excellent view of the merriment; he grumbled at the various Neopets’ distracting bustle and busyness. Although the Poogle did not necessarily do anything in particular during work these days, he still oversaw Neopets.com at large, and when he wasn’t doing that he still appreciated his cultivated sense of peace and quiet. Racka loaded the Neovision+ app on his laptop but scowled and quickly closed it when the “Top 10 Birthday Movies of This Year!” flashed across the screen.

     The door to his office flew open. “Happy Neopets’ Birthday, Uncle! Adam save you!” rang a cantabile voice. It was Chadrick Woolsworth Tuffington IV, known by most as Chadley.

     Chadley was, of course, very handsome; he was rated Neopia’s all-around handsomest Neopet by participants in a Neopian Times annual survey for going on 12 years running. The popularity of that Zafara must have again allowed him to get past security unquestioned; Racka reminded himself to berate the guards later.

     “Bah!” exclaimed Racka in reply to his nephew. “Darblat!”

     “Neopets.com’s birthday’s a Darblat?” asked the Zafara with spirited incredulity. “Surely you don’t mean that, Uncle?”

     “I do,” muttered Racka. “So the website survived another year. What reason do you have to celebrate?”

     Chadley thought a moment. “Why,” he started with a slow grin, “that the website survived another year! It’s another year of the world with me in it! And you too, Uncle!”

     “Darblats!” Racka responded, folding his arms.

     “Come now, Uncle, don’t be upset!”

     “Why shouldn’t I be?” Racka rebutted. “That day is no different than any other day on the Neopian calendar. Yet you have all these fools, wandering about, wishing each other a Happy Birthday.”

     “Why, Uncle, that is precisely why that day is different!”

     “All these fools, spending hard-earned Neopoints on birthday gifts that will only end up in one’s Safety Deposit Box. And Neopets.com loses money hand over fist in pointless discounts. If it were up to me, every reveller who dispenses even a single dose of ‘Happy Birthday’ should be cooked in their own birthday cake. Keep your Happy Birthday to yourself, Nephew!”

     “Uncle!” Chadley asserted pleadingly. “This annual Birthday cheer, when the layout is painted a festive blue with streamers and balloons to boot… it’s a good and special time. It reminds me that our virtual world, the website we hold dear, is another year older. It is a time for reflection, kindness, and charity. A time to think about the past and look forward to the future. Neopets’ birthday is a party, and celebrating with our loved ones is a must. And though I have never truly profited monetarily from the holiday – save the year I sold autographs at the Concert Hall, and that one R-rated movie deal – I truly believe I have profited spiritually.”

     Somewhere not too far-off, the security guard applauded Chadley’s impromptu speech.

     Racka grumbled. “You are a good actor, but you haven’t fooled me. Though it’s a wonder you don’t run for a Council position somewhere.”

     “Anyway, Uncle, I am here to invite you to dine with Abigail and I tomorrow for a Birthday supper.”

     “No,” Racka said fast and flatly. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do less.”

     “But—”

     “Good afternoon.”

     “Come now Uncle, I may be leagues more popular than you, but that doesn’t mean I’m any more intimidat—”

     “Good afternoon!” the Poogle repeated, walking to and shooing his nephew out the door.

     “Well, a Happy Birthday to you anyway, Uncle,” Chadley declared calmly before flashing his award-winning smile.

     “Good afternoon!” Racka finished before slamming the door in Chadley’s face.

     At that very moment, Racka received a call on his office phone; some “Hoboppin” or something, so stated the call display. With a heavy sigh, he picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

     “Mr… Rackattack… attack?” started the feminine voice on the other side.

     “Close enough,” the Poogle breathed. “What is it you want?”

     “I am a representative of the Charity for—”

     “No,” Racka interrupted.

     “Please, Mr. Rackattackattack! On this most festive day of the year,” continued the woman, “it is desirable to make some donation for the poorest and youngest Neopians among us! With the Games Room in a destitute state, and job coupons at an all-time high due to inflation in our broken economy, it is so difficult for the young Neopets – who just aren’t old enough to bet a lot at Food Club – to make the means to pay for their essentials, let alone pleasures or even dreamie items. Do you know how much paintbrushes or especially stamps cost these days?”

     Racka had already let her speak for far longer than the average solicitor. “Is Trudy’s Surprise still running?” he asked.

     “Indeed it is,” continued the charity worker. “But in this economy, a half a million NP a month is a pittance.”

     The Poogle bit back a scowl, for he remembered when that was considered relatively wealthy. “Aren’t the shops still open?”

     “There are plenty of shops,” continued the Neopet. “But autobuyers purchase all the best goods, so the average Neopet can’t make large profits from restocking.”

     Racka frowned. “Isn’t that exclusive merchants guild still a thing?”

     The voice on the other side sighed. “It is, though I wish it were not.”

     “Well, then,” finished Racka, “it sounds to me as though the young folks are just fine then, and any poverty on their part is due to their own lack of work ethic. Now, leave me alone!”

     “Alright. But please, sir, remember the Charity for Financial Preservation of the Young the next time you—”

     “I refuse to be happy during the Birthday celebrations and I refuse to pay for others to be happy!” He hung up the phone. Why, the last time he’d paid for anyone other than himself had been… Dead Chia’s shrine.

     As the clock read 4 p.m., the chill winds became chillier and windier. The light dancing snowfall had – both mirroring and in opposition to the crowds of revellers below – become a mass of hurried snowflakes, whizzing past each other with little care for one another. Racka scowled and continued his work, lacking as it was, for another half hour, until—

     “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you!” rang voices from below Racka’s office, just outside the HQ. “Happy birthday dear Neopets.com!”

     With a frown, Racka opened a window and dispersed the small gathered crowd with a bucket of slime left over from the Viacom days. He chuckled.

     And then came a knock on his door, before it opened to reveal Aesop. The head of content at TNT seemed flustered if not embarrassed to be there, making his claim. “Hi Racka, er, I—”

     “You’ll want to take off Neopets.com’s birthday tomorrow, won’t you?” Racka said flatly, predicting why the employee had paid him a visit.

     Aesop bowed. “If you may. I would like to spend the day celebrating with my family—”

     “Alright,” Racka sighed. “Though why you should be paid not to work is a question that boggles the mind. Nevertheless, be here all the earlier the morning of the 16th.”

     Aesop thanked the Poogle profusely and skipped out of the office.

     In a few short minutes, Racka found himself donning his winter customization and venturing out into the cold. He bought a few slices of whatever was cheapest from Pizzaroo, and ventured to his NeoHome to enjoy the meagre meal in quiet solitude. The NeoHome was small and relatively aged – still a Version 1, surrounded by Version 2s – but it gave it some of its charm. Not that Racka particularly liked charm.

     It should be noted that the doorknob to Racka’s NeoHome was considerably ordinary. Brass, with a rectangular head and a small hole for the insertion of the key which unlocked it. It should also be noted that, except for after his phone call today, Racka had not thought of Dead Chia for more than four years. Dead Chia, who had died a few days before Neopets.com’s birthday all those years ago.

     Nevertheless, when Racka arrived at his home, he reached for the handle and realized with a start that something was off. The doorknob – which the Poogle had seen and grabbed every day and night for the past near decade – had become considerably more… pliant. Fluffy. Dare he say, squishy. Almost like a Chia…

     All at once, the heavy stench of roses wreaked the air. And the fire of candlelight seemed to burn all around him.

     Releasing a haunting gasp at the nightmarish sensations, Racka relinquished his grip on the doorknob and felt like he was about to become Dead himself.

     And then, just like that, the pain was over. The event has certainly left him perturbed, but he cast the experience as a momentary lapse in mental faculty from the stresses of the day. Narrowing his eyes, he again touched the doorknob… it was firm brass yet again. “Shenanigans,” he muttered as he opened the door, passed through the frame, and closed it, double-locking it behind him.

     He sprawled upon the couch in his living room, lifting to rest his legs on the coffee table. Though he could have turned on his television with the nearby remote control, he remembered the Neovision+ episode from earlier and so decided against it. With a murmur, he got up and went to the kitchen, where he began to fix his pizza slices together into something of a sandwich.

     And whilst he was there, the TV spontaneously turned itself on. A loud, reverberating static could be heard from the other room; evidently, a channel was not selected, and the television was interpreting and reproducing the surrounding electromagnetic waves in an utterly disturbing manner.

     With a scowl, Racka endeavoured to turn the TV off. But as he was reaching for his remote, the loud hiss became… an ethereal hum. Almost a wail. And the salt and pepper mix on the TV took an oddly orange hue.

     Now even more perturbed, Racka went and just unplugged the television. He finished fancying his pizza, which he promptly consumed, and thought it best just to head to bed. But first, he inspected his wall photos, the toilet, the Cheery Plants in his now snow-covered garden, and under his bed, and was satisfied that there was nothing further out of the ordinary. Racka could see from out his bedroom window a heavy snowfall raging on the other side, but he had his warmth inside. There was nothing here to keep him from sleeping. Donning his nighttime customization, he went and lay down to bed.

     But rest came not to Racka that evening. “Darblats!” the Poogle declared in annoyance. He got out of bed and started pacing about his bedroom. “Why can’t I sleep? This is a completely ordinary night!”

     As though rebutting his words, all the appliances in his NeoHome suddenly came to life, whirring and buzzing and ringing and mixing and emitting and reverberating and exploding. “Ah!” he screamed.

     And then he heard something like the rattling of sacks of Neopoints, and then the door to his bedroom flew open to reveal—

     “Dead Chia!” Racka wailed. Though Dead Chia could not now be called Dead Chia, nor Live Chia nor even Undead Chia. Dead Chia was Ghost Chia.

     Some may say that all Chias look the same, but Racka could tell this was his friend in life. He stared at the ghost, through the ghost, and felt a chill wash over him colder than the blizzard outside this night.

     “IT IS I,” Ghost Chia wailed, allaying all doubts. “THE GHOST OF DEAD CHIA.” He rattled what were not sacks of Neopoints, but heavy chains.

     “I doubt that,” the Poogle replied, feigning doubt. “I don’t believe you exist any further than I could throw you. And given you seem to be weightless or even incapable of being held, I doubt that would be very far! I mean, look at you!” Racka gestured incredulously to the Chia. The Poogle was neither one to make wisecracks nor treat anyone with open malice, but he was very frightened, and he was defaulting to his modus operandi – he had been created to insult from afar when approaching others.

     Ghost Chia snarled and shook his chains. “WHY DON’T YOU BELIEVE I AM HERE, STANDING BEFORE YOU?”

     The Poogle folded his arms across his chest. “Must you speak in caps? And stop with that infernal clanking, it’s annoying.”

     The Chia huffed. “I thought it would make me look more powerful.”

     “Come now, being dead must have rotted your brain.” Racka shook his big head. “And I don’t believe you are truly here, because this could be nothing more than some fever dream brought on by bad pizza and too much Neovision+,” he added, knowing full-well the latter was a lie. “And if I truly wanted, I could go and sleep out in the cold, and really have a nightmare—”

     At this, Ghost Chia raised his head and gave a horrifying howl, rattling his chains like his lack of life depended on it.

     “Alright, I believe it’s you!” Racka covered his ears and cowered behind his bed. “Wh-why have you returned?” he began, his voice shaking. “You’ve rested peacefully for years, why now do you revolt against your accommodations?”

     “It is not my accommodations which I find revolting…” Ghost Chia started morosely, “but the status of our virtual world itself. Though before you defend yourself and attack me for this, I am here this Neopets.com Birthday eve, back from the netherworld, to convey to you the simple truth that you must change your ways, change your outlook! Your very life depends on this!”

     Racka swallowed his growing scowl. “You were like a brother to me, Chia,” he started. “You and I had many great memories around TNT HQ. But I don’t think my very life—”

     “We had power around TNT HQ, but we squandered it!” Ghost Chia spat. “And now I am condemned to walk about Neopia, wishing I had done so much more for’t! And unless you change your ways and see what more you can do, you too will be condemned, Rackatackatackata!”

     His full name. A shiver of dread ran through him.

     “You will be visited,” continued Ghost Chia, “by three spirits. Heed their warnings and understand what they desire to show you, or you will not escape my fate!”

     At this, the ghost shrieked. He walked to the bedroom window and he and his chains passed through it without opening it. An ethereal sludge was left, smeared across the glass.

     Racka just glared. “If you could do that, you should have just phased out the door!” He snarled to no one in particular. “Dar…” The word died of exhaustion on his lips.

     With a heavy exhalation, he fought sleep no longer. He turned out his bedside lamp and crashed into his bed.

     ***

     Racka stirred awake and slowly sat himself up, feeling intensely groggy. Mustering his might, he pulled the chord on his bedside lamp, a chord that somehow felt like it weighed 100 Turmaculuses.

     He found himself incredibly bothered by the words of Ghost Chia. But even then, he was still unconvinced that the whole affair had not been more than a dream. “Where are you, Spirit?” he asked the empty air about him. “Are you coming? Is this truly happening, or is this a dream?”

     “Oh, I’m already here,” came an excited voice as the door to his bedroom opened. “I was just waiting for you to question your reality or have some existential crisis.” They grinned bemusedly.

     Racka gaped and took them in. They were human, and wore a dazzling white pantsuit, thick glasses, and had cool partially shaven hair.

     Wait a minute. He knew this creature.

     “…Mac?” he said, a hint of scepticism in his voice. “The former NT editor and short-lived community manager at TNT HQ? The one that didn’t even last six months?”

     “The very same!” Mac said, excited to be recognized. “And actually I was employed at TNT for about 8 months, 9 tops. I also judged poetry and storytelling, came up with some awesome items, and gave away too many scary tree stamps and asked kind Neopians to regift them! I loved my job at TNT, but I love my current job, too! When I’m not looking after my little one, I get to affect positive change for the environment, and for causes I believe in. I get to make a real difference.”

     The Poogle just glared at them, feeling as though the lattermost sentence was somehow directed at him. “So are you… the first spirit, whose coming was foretold to me?”

     “I am!” Mac grinned. “I’m here today to fulfill my role as the Ghost of Birthday Past. But I’ve talked too much about me. Today, Racka, is about you.” They brought their hands together and pointed at him. “Specifically, I am going to take you into the world of Birthdays past for you and for Neopets.com.”

     Racka remembered Dead Chia’s words, and he bowed to the human. “Show me, spirit, what you must.”

     They took his arm. “Come, follow me, and let’s go for a ride outside.” They took him to the window.

     “But it’s cold and night,” he replied with a furrowed brow. “And I am a Neopet not adapted to cold and night.”

     “Trust me,” they said as they walked and phased through, leading him to follow. With a sigh, hoping he wouldn’t smash his window, he leapt forward – and phased through it as well.

     The two found themselves in a college dormitory, in which two students sat surrounding a very thick cream-coloured computer with an astounding 16-bit colour CRT monitor. On the left there was a short-haired human wearing a polo shirt, gold chain, baggy pants, and munching on asparagus, appearing to be some sort of coder. On the right there was a long-haired human wearing an oversized t-shirt and colourful overalls, appearing to be some kind of artist. And they were both British.

     “Oh my!” started Racka as he rubbed his eyes to ensure this was not some illusion. “That’s Adam! And that’s Donna! Spirit, is this… The literal birth of Neopets.com?”

     “Just watch,” Mac replied, their eyes glistening.

     Racka nodded and watched intently.

     “Alright, I’ve finished debugging the pet creation script,” said Adam. “It’s too bad the Java applet didn’t pan out, but man, so many people are going to have a blast with this virtual world!”

     “That’s awesome!” replied Donna. “And they’re going to go gaga over the GIFs with gradients I made. Oh, and I just finished uploading the photo of Bruce Forsythe.”

     The two shared a chuckle, and then some friendly banter about backend and frontend alike.

     A short while of debugging later, Adam said, “It’s ready. We’ve just to hit upload. Oh, and not use the phone for a tick, heh. Donna,” he continued with a chivalrous bow, “would you do the honours?”

     She grinned and took his hand. “It would be my pleasure!”

     And with the press of the “return” key, Donna had birthed new light into the world. Their computer was a manger, and the many Neopets, now online, appeared and started baaing and bleating about the room like friendly beasts.

     “They’re so… excited,” Racka reflected as Donna wrapped the computer in swaddling clothes. “Excited to be bringing this website into the world.” He frowned in contemplation as Adam then brought out a foul-smelling liquid in oddly shaped triangular glasses, and the two founders shared the drink. “So excited about Neopets.com’s birthday…”

     Mac smiled softly. “I know someone else who used to be excited about Neopets.com’s birthday.”

     Mac thrust out their hand and the room shifted and changed.

     “Wait!” cried Racka. “I didn’t even tell them to avoid that science investor!”

     “These are but past memories,” the former NT editor responded. “You cannot affect them… But you can be affected by them.”

     The room went from a dormitory to an office space. And running down the hall was a much younger Racka.

     “Oh my goodness, Spirit, I remember this!” Racka exclaimed. “This is when I was but a boy!”

     The bigger Poogle started to run through the halls himself, not quite chasing the younger Poogle, but certainly excited to be back here again – and excited to reach the same destination as his younger self. “There’s the office of Mr InSaNe! And Anthony! And Mr Shankly! And Cookie!” And he prattled on and on as Mac just watched, amused, from the sidelines.

     “Don’t you have someone to catch?” Mac asked, tilting their head in the direction the smaller Racka had ran.

     “Oh yes, of course!” And the two dashed to the big boardroom, where most of the staff and their pets had gathered…

     To celebrate the birthday of Neopets.com.

     “Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear Neopets.com!” rang their chorus, and the elder Racka could not help but join in for the last verse. He laughed at himself over the effort. “Happy Birthday to you!”

     Balloons were strewn about and cake was served. And there, off in the corner, a younger Racka was conversing with a younger and now very much alive Live Chia.

     “Isn’t this awesome!” shouted the boy Racka. “Our world just turned over another whole year! It’s the biggest celebration of the year, WAHOOOO!”

     “I know!” replied Live Chia. “This website is seriously the best. I hope it goes on for another 50 years, or even a hundred! I’ll be dead by then, but who cares?”

     “Silly Chia,” giggled Racka. “Donna made it so Neopets don’t die, remember?” The two laughed and started racing around in circles. “You’re only gonna die if the content lore team demands it of you.” He reached out to tickle Live Chia.

     A pang of repressed sadness ran through the elder Racka, but his resolve strengthened; he would not let Dead Chia down in his adventure with the Ghosts.

     “Noooo,” started the little Chia as he twisted his body to escape, “Racka, will you protect me?”

     “Of course! We’re gonna be there together and celebrate birthdays forever! Racka and Chia, for a hundred years, Chia, hundred days, a hundred times, Racka and Chia!” Racka babbled.

     “I’ll race you to more cake!” challenged Live Chia.

     “You’re on!” Racka replied before they both darted off. “I do love marble flavour! And the candles actually smell like birthday cake, too, isn’t that wild!?”

     “See how happy you look?” Mac prompted, breaking boy Racka’s conversation as he watched the scene unfold. He remembered that. It had been many long years, but he remembered. “Singing, enjoying life and of course cake…”

     Racka sighed. “I do remember, Spirit. I was… I was different, then. From whom I am today.”

     “Better?”

     The Poogle reflected a moment. “Yes. Better. More lighthearted.”

     Mac’s eye twinkled. “You’ve changed before. What’s stopping you from reforming yourself now?”

     Racka opened his mouth to say something, but tarried.

     “What is it?” Mac inquired.

     “It’s just… there were some singers below my office this afternoon, and I kind of… dumped slime on them,” he admitted sheepishly. “I wish now I’d have tossed them some Neopoints instead.”

     Mac just gave a wry smile in response.

     The scenes changed again. In a time-lapse, Racka saw the fast buildup of the company and the immersive ads. Soon, it was the sale of the website to Viacom. “No!” Racka shouted, remembering that this led to creative differences among the new corporate heads with the founders, who would eventually quit. “Don’t sell, not without guaranteeing your creative rights first!”

     “They can’t hear you,” Mac reminded, a touch solemnly, as the scenes kept changing.

     Racka reached out to Adam and Donna but then, like ghosts themselves, they vanished. The Poogle recalled what Ghost Chia had opined about having so much power at the company yet doing nothing with it.

     They took a brief stop at the Public Forum Boards to see how absolutely lively they were, filled with roleplayers, writers, restockers, and all sorts of Neopians conversing with one another, selling each other things, and showing off what they had made… and generally being filled with good cheer, for it was another Neopets.com birthday, and everyone wanted to be part of it. Being at the Public Forum Boards was like being in a city unto itself.

     “I remember this bustling place,” Racka started. “Why, I believe just last month from where we are, I was fooled into thinking I was talking to Hannah Montana here.”

     Mac chuckled. “You and many others.”

     “I made so many of my first Neofriends here…” the Poogle trailed. He could never find himself in this bustling place, but he recalled going out and reading a shop ad for someone selling birthday gift cards; his past self had subsequently went to the user shop and bought some and mailed them to all his Neofriends.

     “You and many others,” the former editor replied, their mouth a neutral line. “Same with me. I made many friends at my guild, too.”

     “Yes, same with me,” Racka affirmed.

     So many Neopians, Neofriends, who in present day were just… gone. Racka couldn’t remember them all – how could he? – but until now he had forgotten even their memories. What could it take to bring them back to Neopets.com?

     “Come,” Mac commanded. “We must keep going, for our time together cannot last indefinitely.”

     They saw the introduction of banner ads and the changing of the site layout. Then came another big change – the advent of customization, the conversions en masse, and the opening of the NC Mall. Racka wanted to cry out again, to tell them to handle it all differently, more effectively, but he found himself powerless. Mac placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, and… he smiled appreciatively.

     But there were good moments. Events. Plots. New Petpets, colours, and frankly content in general.

     Oh, there was the first Daily Dare; he saw his future niece by marriage and her brother when they were younger. “Darblats,” he muttered; he never liked those gamers. The games were supposed to be casual and fun, and there were already Neopia-wide competitions for them in the form of the High Score Tables. Why make whole new and beloved annual events? All they did was create something else that eventually died with the death of Flash.

     Mac and Racka continued their montage through the years. The Altador Cup. New lands discovered. The return of Dr Sloth. Faeries being turned to stone. TNT HQ launching Petpet Park and later Habitarium.

     And all the while, the NC Mall just kept getting bigger, and bigger, and bigger. (Though all the frequent customizers seemed happy enough with this.)

     All the ups, and downs, and ups, and downs, Racka remembered how he became more jaded and different towards Neopets.com and Neopia in general. There was no pleasing everyone, there never could be; he was feeling the toll of that, all over again.

     Then came the sale to JumpStart, which elicited another “Nooo!” from the ineffective Racka, despite rumours that the website would be shuttered had it not been sold. And then he saw himself at the time. He looked… happy. The future had been bright, then. If only for the moment, for the sale to yet another company was just a few short years in the making.

     He saw TNT HQ closing Petpet Park and Habitarium. A new Neopet species (finally). Kaia. Darcardia. Fewer and fewer events. Less and less to do, apart for some off-site mobile games with diminishing returns. The death of Flash brought whole new levels of woe to the frontend, and getting everything converted to HTML5 alongside a site layout redesign was ambitious, but Gutterfoot and Scrappy convinced him it was the way to go – not that he required too much if any convincing, for by this point he was just drifting through the office with little care. But Gutterfoot and Scrappy, too, would soon be gone.

     There was an explosion of partnerships and merch – some of questionable quality, but most pleasant and enticing – and it seemed to keep many Neopians happy. Or at least interested.

     But then…

     “Spirit, I don’t want to stop here. I cannot bear it!” Racka knew what he did. What he approved into existence, because at the time he just couldn’t be bothered to care how or whether the decision would impact Neopets.com proper. None of those silly app games had ever caused a major uproar. Not like—

     “Yes,” agreed Mac, “I don’t want to see it either.” They frowned and shook their head. “Let me take you back to your bedroom and haunt you no longer. But there you have it. A look into past birthdays of Neopets.com, and the virtual world in general.” As they arrived in his bedroom, a small smile of mutual understanding spread across Mac’s face, and the human went to hug Racka.

     The Poogle closed their eyes and hugged back. Though, as if the hug was given by the Grass Faerie, Racka started to feel very relaxed. Relaxed, and… tired. He barely had time to settle back in his bed before he fell into a deep sleep.

     “Remember to stay hydrated,” was the last thing he heard. “I’ll leave a cup of water for you on your coffee table.”

     ***

     Racka awoke himself with a particularly loud snore. He was now convinced that Dead Chia was not some fabrication of his imagination; no, his visit and that of Mac’s were as real as the memories he saw. They were certainly not the figments of some Neopian Times author pulling some strings somewhere.

     The Poogle was prepared for anything. Though he was not prepared for waiting. And wait he did, until he almost fell back asleep. But just when closed his eyes, he swore he heard a noise from down the hallway…

     Endeavouring to leave his bed, Racka gingerly opened his (non-plush) bedroom door and crept down the length of hall. There was a light on in the kitchen; throwing stealth to the winds outside, he ran the few steps until he was there.

     His kitchen had been transformed. Balloons and streamers were strewn about like a canon had fired them there. And the whole room seemed to radiate a bright, exciting light – including the candles atop the giant marble cake that sat on his now marble table. The Poogle gaped as he realized his kitchen was at least four times its normal size, and though Racka was relatively well-off the décor seemed to match a Neopet with six times his salary.

     And sitting on one of the chairs at the kitchen table was a Rock Petpet who looked to be about eight times the size of a normal Rock. “Come in!” exclaimed the Petpet. “Come in, it’s about time you arrived, man!”

     Racka entered uncertainly, not meeting the Petpet’s gaze – much as a Rock can have a gaze.

     “I am Stone,” the Spirit started. “The current editor of the Neopian Times!”

     Racka blinked. “Oh… are you? When we hired you I just expected you were a… you know, one of those mostly furless ones,” he finished skeptically.

     The Petpet guffawed. “Well, it seems to me as though you need to do a better job at vetting candidates!” They continued laughing. “Anyway, today I am here as the Ghost of Birthday Present. Come, feast on some cake, but first – feast your eyes upon me! I see you are avoiding looking directly at my rock-solid abs.”

     The Poogle turned his attention loyally to the Petpet. Stone was… a rock. Likely metamorphic, possibly igneous. They were a very fetching shade of grey, and the intense lighting in the room seemed to give them a silvery sheen, not unlike a polished 5 dubloon coin. They were somewhat rounder at their middle than their top, and the indents into the rock face gave the appearance of a… well, face. Though, there was no cleavage of which Racka could discern.

     And… well, what else could Racka say, other than that they were a giant pet rock?

     “I can’t believe you didn’t know that I was a Rock Petpet, this whole time!” Stone said as they shook their head with amusement, insofar as Stone was not all head. “You’ve never seen me before!” They offered the Poogle a freshly cut slice of cake by floating a piece toward him.

     “Never,” Racka replied as he accepted the slice and stuffed it all into his mouth. “But please,” he continued between bites, “let us embark on an adventure where you show me what you need to show me.” He gave an amicable bow.

     “Eager!” exclaimed Stone. “I like it. Touch my face.”

     “Er…” the Poogle trailed as he gingerly set a paw on what seemed to be Stone’s face.

     At once, the two soared high over the streets of Neopia Central. Racka looked down and saw all sorts of Neopets in their NeoHomes, singing Happy Birthday, enjoying cake, and enjoying the pleasure of each others’ company. And then Stone took Racka to see, briefly, how Neopets.com’s birthday was being celebrated all over Neopia. In Altador, the Yurble Janitor sang a rather fierce rendition of Happy Birthday to all visitors to the Hall of Heroes. In Brightvale, Roberta read a history of birthday celebrations to the townsfolk. In Faerieland, Jhudora was giving away free cake (though few seemed to accept it). In the Haunted Woods, the spooky masks were replaced by festive ones, including ones that appeared to be balloons, or Adam and Donna. In Kiko Lake, Kikos hung balloons rather than popped them (though there was some popping, too). On Krawk Island, Cap’n Threelegs gave a party blower and free training to all. On Kreludor, the Neocola machine dispensed a special “birthday cake” flavour of cola. On Lutari Island, the heavy fog became an ever so slightly less heavy fog. In Maraqua, Kelp served birthday-themed foodstuffs. In Meridell, Neopets chased birthday cakes down the hill. In Moltara, Neopets lit their cakes with glowing worms. On Mystery Island, the Tombola Man dispensed streamers, bonbons, and cards. On Roo Island, all the creative contests were birthday-themed, and they updated on time. In Shenkuu, Chef Bonju prepared a traditional birthday meal for the townsfolk. On Terror Mountain, there were fun snowball fights while the Rink Runner Bruce sang Happy Birthday on loop. In the Lost Desert, the Neopets made birthday cupcakes out of sand. In Tyrannia, the Concert Hall was double its maximum capacity (and subsequently sold only 5% rather than 10% of its tickets). And on the Virtupets Space Station, Dr Sloth had his right-hand Grundo Esterhazy throw a huge birthday party for all the staff, thanking them for another year of forced service. And there was even a freebie at the NC mall!

     The birthday of Neopets.com truly was a Neopia-wide affair.

     “Spirit,” started Racka with a growing sense of excitement, “What’s your favourite flavour of birthday cake?”

     “Flavour is not important,” conjectured the Petpet. “What’s important is whom you share the cake with.”

     “Alright Hagan,” Racka said, rolling his eyes. “With whom would your share your cake? Except me, of course.”

     “The young, the poor,” the Rock replied in a tone that Racka believed betrayed ill-will toward him. “And those who go home to no one, or those who have no home to begin with.”

     Racka frowned pensively, for the Poogle himself was included in that list. Also on the Spirit’s list were those the charity that solicited him earlier had been trying to help. “But everyone seems so… happy.”

     Stone frowned, insofar as a Rock can. “Not everyone is happy, I’m afraid.”

     The Poogle pouted. “No?”

     “Come with me,” the current NT editor said levelly. “Let us briefly visit the Public Forum Boards.”

     Racka and Stone walked through the crowds standing at the section of the forums known as Board 7, each shouting their own oft-angry remarks about this topic or that thread. Per usual, there was speculation about plots and events. Some complained that they couldn’t say HTTPS links, or about the state of the Battledome, or the lack of a Charity Corner, or about Neopets.com in general. And many still wanted transparency about the Altador Cup results; Racka frowned, for he wanted to say something and rein in the Altador Cup Committee’s idiocy, but he’d always thought “someone else around the office will do it.” But no one ever did; it was like collective selective mutism had befallen the office proper. He thought back to the power he had, and Ghost Chia’s remarks.

     Others on Board 7 expressed their dissatisfaction that TNT HQ support just seemed to be giving rare items away to seemingly the highest bidding Neopets in backroom deals. Still others warned about some Neopets artificially inflating the costs of birthday cakes, balloons, cards, and other themed items. “Neopets really do that, take advantage of each other like that?”

     “You yourself talked about that merchant’s guild,” Stone replied. “Is this not a good means by which the poor can earn their living?”

     Racka felt dissatisfaction grow within him as he heard his words thrown back at him. Dissatisfaction at… no, not the Spirit. At himself.

     And just when he thought he couldn’t feel lower, he saw some Neopets who seemed to make it their goal to remind Racka of what he had justly blindly allowed: the NFTs. The Poogle hung his head in shame.

     Though, Racka perked somewhat at seeing, at the edge of the section of the Forum, a few Neopets wishing Neopets.com a happy birthday. While some believed the virtual world to be a “meme” or otherwise refused to partake in the celebrations, other genuinely were happy for the website and the nostalgia and happy feelings it brought. The Poogle paused. Maybe all the comments weren’t all the same. Maybe he did feel happy at the happiness of others…

     The two exited Board 7 and navigated to the Newbies section. Racka was surprised to see that virtually no one on the thread was a Newbie. The participants seemed to talk about generally random things, including what sorts of Birthday feasts they were having, or conversely what they weren’t dining on because they had just gotten tongue piercings or the Evil Fuzzles Virus or the like. Racka did have to remind a few folks that Neopets.com was not a dating website, though he wasn’t sure whether they entirely understood. The Poogle did smile at the open rainbow-pet language being used; that was a positive change to the site in recent years. And then he and Stone passed some Neopets discussing their indifference towards those protesting on Board 7, and others were openly talking about the enemies they’d made in the virtual world – Neopia really was divided.

     They briefly walked through the Games section. Lots talked about how to work around the end of Flash; Racka realized just how broken the virtual world was without Flash. At least there were some Neopets discussing restock times for the Almost Abandoned Attic – its return is another recent positive for the website – and still others kindly telling people the answer to the Daily Puzzle.

     The Art Chat boomed with Neopets showing themselves off, looking for votes in the Beauty Contest. And even Kikocat was there, congratulating the various Neopian artists for works well crafted. Though, the Writer’s Chat was dead… given much of the week’s content in the New Features came from fanart and fanfic, Racka expected both sections of the Forum to be hopping. At least those who were there seemed generally happy. Generally.

     “Want to visit the Pound Chat?” asked the Ghost of Birthday Present.

     Racka shuddered. “No. I never could get the hang of that place.”

     Stone smiled thinly or at least seemed to. “Neither could I. Though, the only Neopets not talking about trading are petitioning for the release of UC pets or looking for a purge. So, I suppose we’re not missing much.”

     “Ah yes, the UCs, and a purge,” the Poogle said, nodding, though his mind was elsewhere. “Thank you for showing me, Spirit.”

     The Petpet looked down at the Neopet. “Showing you what?”

     “Showing me that not everyone is happy. Showing me what I can do to start fixing things around this world of ours.” Racka smiled, and Stone seemed to smile back, as a Rock is able.

     “And trust me, there are even more unhappy Neopians offsite!” Stone said sagaciously, to which Racka gave a nervous cough in reply. “Though if you want to know what can be fixed around our world…”

     The two briefly ventured to the Ideas and Suggestions board, and Racka took many notes, organizing them into a near-handwritten list.

     “Now come,” continued the NT editor, “there is still much to see. Including events that are directly relevant to you.”

     Perhaps the Spirit delighted in showing off their skills, or maybe it was just their predisposition toward showing kindness to the poor, but the two soon found themselves outside the home of Aesop; Racka could tell, for there was a book of Kreludorian fables sitting on a cold swinging chair on the quaint patio. “Come,” said Stone, “let us bless this house with our presence!”

     The Poogle raised an eyebrow curiously. “You’re just going to traipse in there like you own this place?”

     “Heavens no!” Stone replied. “Just wait a minute or two.” They ventured to gaze into the home through the large bay window. They saw what seemed to be the drawing room, already well-decorated with streamers and balloons.

     Up rose Hydrodolp, the eldest of Aesop’s six Neopets. The Peophin wore mint-coloured attire, and colourful streamer ribbons lined her mint-coloured hair. She set the wood table with the assistance of her closest brother Scornchio. He was a Scorchio with gallant attire and a rather regal demeanour – in stark contrast to the proletarian air of his sister. They placed the tablecloth and fussed it about.

     A bell tolled in another room, prompting the twins within Aesop’s clan to race out of their corner in the drawing room and into the kitchen. Ayowhynot – the youngest sister, who except from her Draik species was rather plain – returned with her arms spread wide, holding a large chocolate birthday cake, steaming fresh from out of the oven. Grundopolis, a Grundo who absolutely adored outer space, set a bamboo hotpad onto the table. “Thanks twin,” replied the Draik as she set the cake, steaming hot, over it.

     The four siblings worked together to quickly ice the caloric monstrosity, and then carefully placed the candles. Ayowhynot breathed a bit of fire to light them up, just as Thebrucestbruce – considerably younger than his siblings – came dashing down the stairs. “I knew the cake was done, I could smell it from my bedroom upstairs.”

     “Yeah, it’s done, no thanks to you little brother,” Hydrodolp replied, a bemused smile on her face, as she gave Thebrucestbruce a little noogie.

     “Hey, I was doing homework!” claimed the little Bruce as an excuse as he wrestled away.

     “Oh now,” started Grundopolis, “you don’t expect us to believe that? We all know NeoSchools were never finished.”

     The five shared a good laugh.

     “Come, now’s our chance!” exclaimed Stone as the NT editor vaguely rocked toward the path leading to the NeoHome. Racka turned, and indeed saw Aesop. The human carried a shopping bag in one hand, and a little, colourfully dressed Moehog on his shoulders; the little Moehog carried a littler crutch. The Poogle, so close to the Head of Content outside the work environment, froze from trepidation rather than cold; Stone reminded him that they were just observers and couldn’t be seen.

     “Siblings!” called Hydrodolp. “Let us hide. And hurry! Before Aesop and Jkuhgar arrive!” The five hid in various corners of the drawing room.

     Aesop unlocked his door and entered his home. Stone and Racka followed exceptionally close behind, successfully sneaking inside. The human closed and locked the door, and the two intruders followed Aesop to the drawing room.

     “What?” began Aesop as he saw the decorations before him, but no family of which to speak. “Where are my loved ones?”

     The trick was cruel, and though they liked hide-and-seek the Neopets refused to delay their celebration one second longer than necessary. His family leapt out of the closest and cupboards and crevices in which they’d been hiding, and sang in chorus: “Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you!”

     And it was here that Aesop and tiny Jkuhgar joined in, as the former set the latter down: “Happy Birthday dear Neopets.com!”

     Even Stone and Racka sang with the closing line: “Happy Birthday to you!”

     Jkuhgar ran to talk to Thebrucestbruce. Aesop quickly unpacked his bag, which was filled with a few bottles of a festive drink. He casually poured some for each of his pets.

     “How did little Jkuhgar behave during your shopping trip?” asked Hydrodolp as she pulled in her owner for a hug.

     “As good as Fyora is bad,” replied Aesop with a grin. “He gets so thoughtful. He mentioned that he hoped others saw him, riding on my shoulders, and would think, ‘Look, there goes Aesop, representing Team Kreludor! He’s holding high a Neopet on his shoulders – symbolically, he’s raising us each up, past the shadowbans, cheaters, and unfair standings of the past Cup. Raising us all to brighter days.’”

     The Peophin frowned and brought a hoof to her heart. “Does he really think that TNT and the Altador Cup Committee will be responsible and communicative, and we’ll all be unshadowbanned,” she commented, though she had initially intended her statement to be more of a question. She shook her head bemusedly.

     “He really does.” Aesop’s voice quivered when he said this. “He’s just been so ill since he went all out and got Double All-star – and then got banned for – but… he’s growing stronger, every day.” His voice quivered even more.

     “Come, let’s eat!” shouted Scornchio, and they all forgot their troubles. Grundopolis disengaged his space helmet and blew out and removed the candles, and then Aesop did the honours of cutting the cake and beginning the feast.

     Such a party ensued that one might think chocolate cake to be the rarest Shenkuuvian delicacy. And it truly was an amazing chocolate cake. Perfectly baked, with little bubbles where hot air had been. The chocolate flavour was decadent, the ratio of egg to butter perfect. And the icing! Traditional buttercream with a hint of maple, and the consistency was creamy. The whole dessert was like biting into a cloud specially baked by the Tooth Faerie herself, when she really wanted those teeth of yours to fall out for her collection.

     Their dinner done, Aesop raised his glass, and his pets did likewise. “A Happy Birthday to all, my dears!” Which the family re-echoed.

     “Happy Birthday!” said Jkuhgar, last of all. He sat very close to Aesop, who held an arm around him.

     “Spirit,” started Racka, “do they ever get unshadowbanned? Does Jkuhgar recover?”

     “I’m no Oracle,” replied Stone. “But I think that is on you.” They appeared as grave as if they were a Halloween Rock.

     Racka sighed; the Poogle supposed it was on him.

     “And let us not forget to toast my employer, Racka!” stated Aesop as he raised his glass again. “For without whom I would not have the means to pay for this exquisite cake.”

     “Oh, don’t start,” huffed Scorchio. “He treats you terribly and underpays all the staff at TNT HQ. I’ve told you before you should get a different job.”

     “Why,” started Ayowhynot, “I wish that Racka were here right now, I’d give him more fire than on the candles that lined our delicious cake!” She shook her fist.

     “Family, my precious family,” said Aesop, attempting to be calming, “I love my job, and it is Neopets.com’s birthday!”

     “Well I suppose that if there is one day to drink to the health of such a stingy, apathetic, and obnoxious Neopet like your employer…” trailed Hydrodolp almost ominously, “it is on the birthday of Neopets.com.”

     The human gave an awkward cough in response, and he raised his glass.

     “I shall toast for your sake, but not to his. To Racka!” shouted Hydrodolp. “Though I would 10-bet Orvinn before I’d bet that Poogle to have a Happy Birthday.”

     “To Racka!” said the other Neopets, one after the other, in quick succession. They quickly drank their birthday drinks.

     The atmosphere of the party shifted at the uttering of Racka; you’d think he was a child of the Monoceraptor, not the firstborn of the Neopets team account!

     After a few minutes of awkward silence, Jkuhgar proposed they play some board games, and they did so, being an order of magnitude happier than they were before.

     They were far from a refined family. Their tastes were not exquisite. They very like got their clothing from the Second Hand Shoppe. Some had expensive colours, but most were basic – insofar as one’s colour determines their status. There was certainly nothing extravagant in the celebration Racka had witnessed. But they were happy, and grateful to spend this time together. The Poogle watched them all, especially the little Moehog.

     But it was getting dark. It was time for Racka and Stone to depart, and they did so not through the door, but simply by the scene changing about them.

     They stood at the door of another NeoHome. From inside, Racka heard a laugh; why, it sounded just like his nephew. Stone shook to nod at Racka, as though confirming the Poogle’s thoughts.

     “Haha!” laughed Chadley. “Hahaha!”

     I too would 10-bet Orvinn before betting that you have heard a Neopet laugh with more genial gusto than the egotistical Zafara.

     Racka heard his niece-to-be join in the laugh, though her brother grumbled at the seeming revelry. He and Stone looked on through the large window.

     “That deranged Poogle actually called Neopets.com’s birthday’s a Darblat!” laughed Chadley. “And he believed it, too!”

     “I cannot believe you’re related to him,” said Abigail with a giggle. “Actually, wait – I remember when first I met you, I can totally believe it.” The Aisha elbowed his ribs, and the two shared a snicker.

     AAA rolled his eyes, but then gave a wan smile. “Yeah, I never thought I’d meet a Neopian more obnoxious than you, Chadley, but your uncle takes that cake.”

     “I hope it’s a birthday cake,” said Abigail with a silly grin. That got AAA to chuckle.

     “He’s a funny old man,” Chadley continued. “And I wish he treated me and others with more kindness. But he reaps what he sows, so to speak.”

     “Well he has all that power and prestige at TNT HQ,” Abigail said matter-of-factly. “At least that’s what you tell me.”

     “So what, my dear?” asked Chadley incredulously. “He does nothing with it, not for himself or anyone else. For Fyora’s sake, being slow on the Flash uptick has stripped poor you and AAA of your semi-yearly gaming contests, and my anonymous letters begging for a fashion show or other modelling event so that I may shine again in the limelight are constantly rejected.”

     Racka harrumphed. So it was his nephew who sent all those letters.

     “I’m sorry Chadley, but I cannot stand your uncle,” sighed Abigail, shaking her head.

     “And you’re right,” interjected AAA. “Even though I’m a successful entrepreneur with my own game studio now,” gloated the Blumaroo, “hosting the Daily Dare and Games Master Challenge were the highlights of my year. I still can’t believe their incompetence in converting games, despite knowing Flash was on its way out for YEARS. I have no sympathy for that uncle of yours, Chadley.” He sniffled.

     Abigail went to hug her brother. “I know bro, I feel that too.”

     “Well, I feel sorry for him,” Chadley admitted. “At least, that he rejects my invitation to dine with us. It’s his loss, not ours. More cake for the rest of us!”

     “Indubitably, he loses out on good food and company,” replied Abigail. “At least this is a small victory for us.”

     “Don’t see it that way,” breathed the Zafara. “I invite him every year because I pity him. It’s no victory that he doesn’t show. It’s sad, for him. It’s not like he has many friendly relations about the office – how could he? I’m sure he spends Neopets.com’s birthday at home, alone, doing nothing but eating rewarmed pizza from the evening before.”

     Racka swallowed at this disturbingly accurate picture.

     The three then shared some mocha lattes with sprinkles before singing Happy Birthday. They then talked about more pleasant matters.

     “Oh Spirit,” begged Racka, “please let me join them, right here and now.”

     The present NT editor apologetically smiled, as much as Rock is able, for they were pleased to find Racka this spirited though could do nothing for him. “I’m sorry,” responded Stone, “but we are just observers. We have no—”

     “Ability to interact directly,” interrupted Racka with a heavy sigh. “Yes, I know.”

     “And what’s more,” continued Stone, “the day is ending. And as the Ghost of Birthday Present—”

     “Let’s play a game!” said the Zafara.

     “Oh!” exclaimed Racka. “They’re playing a game now! Let’s watch it, please, and then we can depart.”

     “Chadley, you want to play 20 questions?” asked Abigail, with a hint of bemusement. “Why?”

     “Why not?” replied her partner.

     “I don’t really want to join in, but I guess he has a point,” agreed her brother. “With the killing of Flash there isn’t much else to play.”

     The game commenced.

     “Is it a Neopet?” asked Abigail.

     “Yes,” affirmed Chadley.

     “Racka,” said AAA.

     “A disagreeable Neopet?” asked Abigail.

     “Yes,” affirmed Chadley.

     “Racka,” said AAA with greater insistence.

     “Do they work in Neopia Central?” asked Abigail.

     “Yes,” affirmed Chadley.

     “Racka!” said AAA forcefully.

     “Are they a solitary yet spiteful pet?” asked Abigail.

     “Yes,” affirmed Chadley.

     “RACKA!” said AAA with growing ferocity.

     “Is it Racka?” asked Abigail with a grin.

     “It is!” exclaimed Chadley as he embraced his Abigail.

     “For Fyora sakes!” declared a distressed AAA as he folded his arms. “You’ve done this every year since you became an item!”

     Abigail and Chadley laughed as they clinked their glasses together. “Happy Neopets.com Birthday, Racka!”

     AAA sighed and smiled before joining in the toast.

     Racka couldn’t help but smirk at their antics. So this was why AAA and Abigail made the DD and GMC. They were organizers, innovators, taking these established site games and making merry with them. Doing something to bring Neopets together. He had been wrong about them all these years.

     Once the three inside the NeoHome had downed their beverages, he asked if they might be up for some Neovision+.

     “Splendid idea champ!” replied the Zafara. “I believe the #3 rated movie in the Top 10 is ‘Birthday to the Future’, I say we watch that. ‘NeoHome Alone’ at #2 is overplayed.”

     “What about the #1 film?” asked AAA.

     “Oh,” said Chadley with a sheepish chuckle, “The #1 movie is ‘Chadley’s Wild Birthday Party’, and it isn’t necessarily… family friendly.”

     Abigail gave a teasing holler, whilst a “no thanks” was heard from AAA.

     “We must leave,” said Stone as they turned away from the window and rolled out into the snowy evening. “It has been a long day, and longer night, and midnight fast approaches.”

     Whilst Racka seemed not to grow older, the Poogle noticed with a start, under the yellow light of the streetlamp, that the NT editor had become incredibly more aged. There were chips and cracks in Stone’s rocky exterior, and they had become an even paler shade of grey.

     “But Mac did not become so frail at the end of our day today,” lamented Racka as he placed a paw comfortingly onto Stone.

     “Mac was the Ghost of Birthday Past. I am of the Present – my life ends tonight.”

     Racka gasped… and then he saw something strange with Stone. “Er, forgive me if it’s a personal question,” Racka began as he took a step back from the giant Petpet. “But I see something protruding from your cracks. It looks sharp – is that a hook?”

     “It may be a hook,” the Spirit replied solemnly, “for they catch Neopian-kind off-guard and pull them up to drown on stale air. Look here.”

     Stone cracked even more, and out crawled two grey Neopets, an Acara and an Ogrin. They were fearful, scraggy, abhorrent creatures, with thick claws and sharp teeth. Where youthful exuberance should have shone, only gloom and resentment seemed to echo. The two brothers, for they were brothers, seemed devoid of joy. They were bleak, the world they had inherited bleaker still. The wretched Neopets held fast to their rocky benefactor.

     The Poogle tried to compliment the children, but the words refused to leave his skull. “Spirit! Do they belong to you?”

     “They belong to you,” Stone replied ominously as they broke further apart, “and underpin the whole of Neopia. This Acara is ignoring the requests and pleas of the player base. And this Ogrin is corporate green. Look close upon them!” And Racka did; he noted that failure was written upon their foreheads. “Beware them and that which gives them life. Deny it!” the Ghost of Birthday Present shouted. “And where you see it, seek to rectify it immediately, or each of us is not long for this world.”

     “Cannot children such as these be saved?” implored Racka. “Must they grow into failure? Surely something can be done for them!”

     “What may be done for them?” said Stone with a level tone; Racka was sure they would fold their arms, if the Petpet had arms. “Are there games to make Neopoints? Are there Neopoints to buy job coupons, or to restock? Is restocking fair? No, these children were doomed before they were even created.” Stone started to seriously splinter.

     Horrified, Racka watched as the creative contest judge crumbled into dust, and the children fled out into the world. Stone’s dust blew and circled aggressively in the wind, and the whole world fractured into particles and joined the swirling mass of despair that came down, down, down upon Racka like a tornado.

     …

     Darkness.

     And the darkness resolved into the blackness of a hood, that covered the final spirit in the ghostly triad foretold by Dead Chia.

To be continued…