A Brithday Carol (for Christmas)

     The Spirit was cloaked in darkness and shrouded in mystery. Nothing of its form was revealed save for one outstretched paw. It was otherwise indistinguishable from night itself.

     “Is it you, Spirit?” inquired Racka solemnly. “The one who will show me glimpses of events that have not happened, but rather will happen? Am I in the presence of the Ghost of Birthday Future?”

     “Rackaaa,” the spirit ominously wailed, “that I am the Ghost of Birthday Future… is entirely obvious.”

     They paused for dramatic effect. “Also, you literally defined ‘future’, so I really don’t know why you’re questioning yourself,” they added in a much sprightlier tone. The Spirit raised their outstretched paw and removed their hood, revealing a contented albeit haggard Shoyru. “It is I—”

     “Wait,” Racka interrupted with growing excitement, “you must be the NT editor and creative contest judge who is yet to come!”

     At this, the Shoyru looked very flattered and may have blushed, though it was difficult to tell in the dim light.

     The Poogle gave a spirited laugh. “I knew it. Who are you, champ?”

     “Mx. Shelley of the GNPO,” said the Spirit. They gave a casual smile and set their arms akimbo. “You’ve probably heard of me.”

     “Er…” Racka just stared blankly. “Sorry.”

     Shelley gave a disappointed glance. “Besides helping run the Post Office’s #1 fan club, I also maintain the ‘Book of Stamps’ that discusses all the stamps in detail. Ande I have more NT trophies than any other Neopet, I’ll have you know,” they added matter-of-factly.

     Their counterpart merely shrugged in response, to which Shelley gave an exasperated sigh and buried their head back in their hood. “No matter. Let us Birthday… to the Future!” announced Shelley as they extended their paw upward and outward.

     The Poogle raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you quoting a movie? For someone with as many NT trophies with you, I’d think you’d have more articulate and original dialogue,” Racka insulted from afar.

     “Let’s just go,” Shelley finished, a hair crossly. They decided they shouldn’t have broken their silence and had no plans to talk to the obnoxious Neopet again anytime soon.

     The dimly lit interstitial dimension in which Racka and Shelley found themselves soon grew brighter, and night faded into day. To discover the future excited Racka in an admittedly grisly manner; he supposed a fear of the future was innate to Neopian kind, and that even the Oracle herself would – for all things unrelated to gambling – try to limit her innate capabilities lest life becomes very dry, meaningless, hollow, and haunting.

     “Oh Ghost of Birthday Future!” exclaimed Racka. “I fear you more than any of your siblings in Birthday-kind. But I know your purpose is to do good, and I will bear what you reveal to me with humble gratitude.”

     Shelley smiled in reply.

     “Lead on!” shouted Racka like a mad lad. “Lead on!”

     And the Spirit led Racka onward. Though, they did not so much enter their surroundings; rather their surroundings faded into existence about them. Everything seemed bleak, much bleaker than the scenes Racka was shown by the other Ghosts. Was this the bleak world Stone’s children would inherit?

     The two came upon some Neopets with a very jellied 2.5D appearance. They were dressed in seemingly random clothing and looked very sad. And they all carried around poorly drawn blue codestones, for unfathomable reasons.

     “So it’s just our world, now,” stated one of them, a Kacheek.

     “Unfortunately so,” replied the other, a Kougra. “Well, and those in Dacardia, and in that slots game.”

     The Kacheek grumbled. “Do they even update Dacardia anymore?”

     “More than they update Classic.”

     The two shared a bitter laugh before dispersing and mingling with some of the other sad, tame, jelly-like Neopets, and giant Turmacs for some reason. There were not many here; for what he knew to be a Neopets.com birthday, Racka noted that surprisingly few filled the sidewalks.

     The Spirit danced into the street, their arm still outstretched, their paw pointing outward in a uniquely menacing way. Racka noticed that all the buildings had the same unrefined, 2.5D, wobbly, ugly quality. He frowned, for something was very strange here; this was almost but not quite the Neopia Central he knew, and it prompted within him a familiar albeit uncanny valley feeling. Had Jellyworld invaders come and turned all of Neopia into Jelly? No, that was preposterous, thought Racka, for Jellyworld did not exist.

     The two passed another few of these strangely dressed and seemingly depressed Neopets, who complained about how they had gone from being sold for a hundred dollars to literal worthlessness in the crash of something called SOL and FTX. One Neopet complained that AI could do better than the current leadership's pets of their world. Racka grimaced, for he did not understand many of the nouns they used, let alone have any idea what they were talking about.

     As they left the small cluster, they passed a couple of Neopets standing near an alley. “How are you?” said one.

     “Just fine,” said the other. “You?”

     “Good. I just got back from playing Meerca Chase.”

     “Was it good?”

     “Not as good as the original, but not bad.”

     “I miss the original.”

     “Likewise. How is the Battledome?”

     “Weird. I don’t think I like the tag-teaming.”

     “Alas. Well, good morning to you!” finished one before departing.

     “And to you too!” finished the other before going in the opposite direction.

     Racka frowned curiously and wondered why Shelley was showing him all these seemingly frivolous and disconnected conversations; but, knowing they held some deeper meaning, he sought to follow the leads.

     “Shelley,” said Racka with growing trepidation, “may I go play Meerca Chase? I would like to see the converted game; I wonder if it is true that it is poorer than the original, or rather a version II.” Racka had heard rumours that the pittance of HTML5-converted games were all inferior to their Flash counterparts, but was admittedly surprised to hear that, even in the future, Flash conversions had not improved.

     The hooded Shoyru nodded, and the two glided across this virtual world and to the Games Room. Along the way, however, Racka observed his NeoHome. “Wait, Spirit, I would like to venture inside!”

     Shelley allowed them to tarry, and Racka walked up to the door and opened it. Once inside, however, Racka quickly observed that none of the furniture was his. Even worse, the top-down view with which he was accustomed was now replaced by something considerably more isometric – and of the same cutesy, wobbly, ugly character of the rest of this world. His house looked very busy, and almost like something out of some other virtual world. Gritting his teeth, for Racka was very confused and upset that someone had taken his home and destroyed it in the time he was gone, the Poogle departed, slamming the door behind him. The door felt squishy, and he thought back to the evening before.

     The two continued their rapid pace and soon found themselves at the Games Room. Racka endeavoured to play Meerca Chase and found the experience rather poor; the wobbly 2.5D visuals were not conducive to controlling what should have been a 2D snake game, and Racka quickly grew frustrated. And the Neggs looked like they had committed grave sins.

     Racka tried Ultimate Bullseye. Turmac Roll. No, each game looked like jelly and played like they were built by an amateur in a matter of weeks. The Poogle left the Games Room, frustrated and disappointed.

     “Spirit!” Racka begged. “I tire of the things I have seen in this world. Please let me see something completely different!”

     Shelley nodded, and with a wave of their outstretched paw, the scene changed again. Racka found himself in a grungy boardroom with several human executives seated around a table. “Let the CTO be first, the CEO be second, and me – the Chairman of the Board – be third,” said the apparent Chairman of the Board.

     “You could have met in a better place,” started the CTO, before being reprimanded and told the grungy boardroom was a cost-cutting measure. Racka reflected on one of the children given to him by Stone. The CTO presented something about Web3 and online gaming.

     Then spoke the CEO. “In the first half of this year, we’ve seen revenues of more than 1.7 million in gaming and 2.4 million in education…” The CEO went on, and Racka quickly tired of the numbers and projections and found himself unable to focus; he thought of Stone’s Ogrin. “We are well-positioned to achieve long-term sustainable growth.”

     “We continued to focus on executing our long-term growth by building our pipeline of new games, especially as the gaming industry continues its trend towards a positive direction,” stated the Chairman of the Board when it was his turn to speak. “We are developing new and legendary IP for new genres and overseas markets. Looking ahead, we will continue our strategy to promote a heavy P2W culture throughout our ecosystem of mobile and MMO games. In addition, we are excited to release version 1.0 of our first Web3 game, and have liquidated the assets of the Web2 game based on the IP to encourage its former users to register new accounts. Though the Web2 game fell out of favour with its player base, the IP is very popular. We are planning the beta launch of the new ‘Thundersticks Dungeon Crawler 2’ in the second half of this year. We anticipate these new games will be much more profitable than the original virtual world was at its end.”

     There was a general atmosphere of celebration in the board room. Whatever Web3 was, whatever its forebearer was that these people had carved up and consumed like a simple birthday cake, had made their days brighter. These people were not evil. They were just corporatists. (Insofar as there can be a distinction.) And everyone had a share.

     Racka shook – though out of fear, anger, or anguish, he could not say. “Spirit!” he exclaimed. “I feel as though this unhappy web experience may be my own.” Though the Poogle dared not ask outright. If the mentioned virtual world could be raised from its offline state, what would characterize it? Greed, apathy? One of the other spectres summoned on the battlefield nearby the Obelisk? Stone’s children again flashed through his mind.

     “I beseech thee, Spirit, show me some individuals emotionally affected by this world being displaced,” said Racka with a level of tenseness.

     Shelley raised their dark cloak in front of Racka’s eyes, and when they lowered it Racka noted that the scene had again changed. Here, a crowd of humans – former participants in the deceased world, so it seemed – conversed together in a public space that was like the Public Forum Boards, but somehow messages were more instant. There was a certain level of discord in the frenzied bustle, and individuals were quick to get to states of having read it, whatever it was, messages most likely.

     The Poogle scrutinized the mostly furless bunch. There seemed to be a lot of indifference among them: he heard several remarks that the dismantling of their cherished collective memory was years in the making and frankly inevitable; that there were better “clone” virtual worlds to visit (though the standard rebuttal was that those sites were small-scale, and like going from earth to heaven one couldn’t take their wealth with them after death); and still others claimed the ending of the virtual world had run its course, and it was time to move onto somewhere or something else. A feeling of harried despair grew within Racka.

     But there were others – those with emotions on the strong ends of the spectrum. Few were happy and leapt and shouted with joy. To them, this was liberating, and they were finally free of the nightmare that held them in disappointment and frustration for years. The light in their faces was a punch to Racka’s belly.

     Yet, many cried over years wasted, dreams unfulfilled, and the money disappeared. Many were saddened that a huge part of their lives was over. Many wept for the world, though weeping could do as much to raise it from its tomb as Racka was able to affect any changes in the Spirits’ scenes.

     Among the melancholy Racka noticed… yes, indeed it was! Aesop, that fine bearded bean. Wait… Why was Aesop here?

     The feeling of gloom within Racka inflated, and grew louder, until it was three times as big as before – one for each of the past, present, and future.

     The human buried his face in his large hands, and tears smeared down his face. “Ohhh!” he wailed. “A Tale of Woe is me! My beautiful Hydrodolp, gone! How I shall miss her practicality and her truthful demeanour, even when the truth was pain. My regal Scornchio, gone! How I shall miss his grace and majesty, his striving to better himself and his family. My wonderful Ayowhynot, gone! How I shall miss her rugged outlook, her belief in placing intelligence and the concrete above looks and the ephemeral. My skilled Grundopolis, gone! How I shall miss his bold personality and level-headedness in the face of opposition. My crafty Thebrucestbruce, gone! How I shall miss delighting in his woven tales, spun from almost believable lips. And my baby, Jkuhgar, gone… How I shall miss your eternal optimism, able to bring light to even the darkest days. Of all my family, I wish you were here the most!” He continued his ugly sobbing.

     Something broke in Racka, watching his (former?) head of content break apart like Stone and babble about the unfairness, the shadowbans, and questioning just what he was going to do next in his life.

     Something broke in Racka… He thought of Aesop, Stone, Mac, Hopbobbin, Chadley, Abigail, AAA – and Dead Chia. He thought about all Neopets throughout history, especially those he had never known. And then he thought of himself, and how he needed to treat himself better, so to treat others better.

     Something broke in Racka – but he mustered his courage and resolved that he would rebuild it, better than before.

     “Spirit,” started the Poogle with growing resolve, “something tells me that our time together is nearing its end. Tell me… what is this virtual world of which everyone speaks?”

     With a flash like lightning and a crash like thunder, the Ghost and Racka found themselves behind the large iron bars of the cemetery colloquially known as the “Game Graveyard”. With their paw, as ever, outstretched, the silent Spirit moved forward; Racka followed, his only sounds his footsteps on the dank grassy ground.

     The pair passed rows of well-known graves: Techo Says; Faerie Caves; Scorchio’s Quest I and II; Alpine Challenge; Chomby and the Fungus Balls; Meerca Chase (Racka crossed himself at reading that one); Pterattack; Evil Fuzzles from Beyond the Stars; Destruct-O-Match I and II; Korbats Lab; Bumper Cars; and the original Battledome.

     Then, overgrown with weeds and brambles, the two passed the graves of lesser-known games: The Last Smiley; Theme Parks; Neovision; Lenny Conundrum; Random Contest; and many sponsor games.

     And finally – in an area of the graveyard so forgotten that it had been the answer to the Mystery Pic just a short time ago – the Spirt stopped. Racka had to halt suddenly so to prevent himself from crashing into the Ghost. The two were beside a whole row of graves, though it was too dark to read their labels.

     “Before I come close to and read these headstones,” began the Poogle, “answer me, Spirit: have I born witness to the things that WILL be, or just the things that MAY be?”

     Tension, thick as buttercream icing, permeated the air. The hooded Shoyru said nothing and continued to point to the rows of stones.

     “A Neopet will predestine their future based on how they act,” stated Racka, trying to navigate through and clear the fog of his self-loathing. “Though if their actions change, so will their outcomes. Say it is thus with what you have shown me, what you will show me!” pleaded the Poogle. “Don’t let the future be written in Stone!”

     The Ghost of Birthday Future largely maintained their resolve, though their paw began to tremble.

     As if on a stage with a professional lighting director, spotlights appeared on the individual graves in the row, one by one, a loud click following each illumination. Racka read the headstones aloud as they came into light.

     KEYQUEST. (Though this grave had been recently disturbed.)

     HABITARIUM.

     PETPET PARK.

     TREASURE KEEPERS.

     GHOUL CATCHERS.

     UNNAMED SWITCH GAME.

     UNNAMED TELEVISION SERIES.

     LEGENDS AND LETTERS.

     ISLAND BUILDERS.

     And the last two were simultaneously lit:

     NEOPETS.COM.

     NEOPETS METAVERSE.

     Racka wobbled and fell to his knees, and he released a loud “NOOOOOOOOO!” For Neopets.com had not, as he had so happily chittered to Live Chia in their youth, lasted for a hundred years. No, Neopets.com was freshly buried – and just when he had finally seen its value, yet again, and wished to see it improve in great leaps! Just when he came to appreciate the birthday of the virtual world, and what that meant for him and could mean for others! Just when he was on the cusp of reform, shedding his apathetic air and donning a demeanour of elation and engagement! Just when he knew what he must do for the website, it was ripped from his clutches!

     Yes, Neopets.com had died and been buried. Soon Meta would join, for there was a freshly dug hole in the earth beside the latter headstone; given what Racka had witnessed earlier, how could this not be so? But that glimmer of hope did nothing to bandage the wound of the implosion of the virtual world in which he was created.

     “Oh Spirit,” started the Poogle between sobs that rivalled only Aesop’s, “I am not the Neopet I was, and I will never be him again! Through my interactions this night I have changed. I promise I am not past hope. Believe in me, Spirit! Promise me that I may change the Future, if only I change my life!”

     Shelley decided that their silence had gone on long enough. “This is what WILL be…” Racka’s face fell. “UNLESS,” continued the Spirit, “you change your ways, change your outlook; and really, what’s stopping you,” they finished, echoing Ghost Chia and Mac’s words. They paused. “At least this is what MAY be, for Neopets.com… The Metaverse will end up here eventually no matter what.” Shelley removed their hood, raised their eyebrow, and gave a cool smirk; Racka returned the smirk in reply. “The future is unwritten.”

     Racka clung to Shelley’s black robe. “I will honour the birthday of Neopets.com and do right by our virtual world!” the Poogle affirmed, promising himself more than the Spirit. “Each Ghost of tonight shall take root within me. I will reflect on the past, live in the present, and look forward to the future.” He took Shelley’s paw in his.

     “Then let it be so,” they whispered.

     The world shifted about them, as light poured out from the graves and started to destroy the scene as though it were corrupted by goodness.

     “The time has come for us to depart!” cried the Spirit.

     “Wait!” stalled Racka, his curiosity unsatisfied. “My future NT editor, what happened to KeyQuest?”

     “Some users dug it up and tried to resurrect it.” Shelley gave a small cough. “But that’s a story for when Piel Cazari writes his version of Frankenstein.”

     The light tore through the surroundings, and soon enveloped all. With a jovial scream, the light consumed Mx. Shelley. Now at peace, Racka closed his eyes and let the light consume him as well.

     Smiling, the Poogle opened his eyes and saw his bedroom ceiling.

     ***

     With a mad grin, Racka leapt from his bed, casting his blankets off him as though they were his former self. “I will reflect on the past, live in the present, and look forward to the future,” he repeated. “Each Ghost shall take root within me. Oh Dead Chia and all Spirits at work, I praise thee for this!”

     He leapt down his hallway – yes, his hallway, decorated just as he remembered – and into his kitchen. Rather than be disappointed, he felt elated that it had now returned to its normal size. He fiddled with the dials on his appliances, and pushed closer to the table the chair in which Stone had sat. He then walked to the living room to plug in his television. Beside the cup of water Mac had left him was the remote; he turned on the television to a Neopia-wide newscast, showing how Neopets were celebrating the birthday of Neopets.com. And Racka recognized some of the scenes as those he had visited, seen with his own eyes! Oh, how he wished he had a birthday cake-scented candle to make the air more festive!

     The Poogle laughed, and cried, and cried from laughing, and laughed from crying. “I feel as light as an Air Mote, as elated as a Happy Negg, as bubbly as a can of Achyfi, and as full of life as a Birthday Goodie Bag!”

     Racka giddily threw open his front door. All around him, he heard the lingering echoes of amateur renditions of “Happy Birthday”, and smelled the faint scents of cakes, cookies, and melted wax candles. How glorious these sensations were to him! Much better than the fearful sensations he had experienced on his doorstep courtesy of Ghost Chia!

     “Ahoy there!” beckoned Racka to a young Chomby lumbering down the street, eyes glued to his ZibbliFone. “What day is it?”

     “Er, Tuesday?” replied the boy, confusedly looking up from his device, tarrying in front of the Poogle’s NeoHome.

     “Just any ole’ Tuesday, lad?” Racka prompted.

     “Well,” sheepishly started the Chomby, “it’s the birthday of Neopets.com. I mean, you can tell if you look close enough.” He flung his arms into the air and gesticulated about. Racka narrowed his eyes and scrutinised the skies – ah yes, there were the faint wisps of balloons from the Birthday site theme!

     “So it is the birthday of Neopets.com!” exclaimed Racka. “I haven’t missed it. Oh, hello there boy!”

     “Er, hello,” the boy responded warily. “It’s been nice talking to you, but I think I’m going to go—”

     “No, stay!” the Poogle urged. “Do you like cake?” he inquired.

     The Chomby took a stride backwards from Racka. “My mother told me not to accept candy from strangers. I’m not sure if cake qualifies as candy but the principle—”

     “Such an intelligent boy with a remarkable mum!” commended Racka. “No, no, you must know the location of the bakery, surely?”

     “Er, yeah,” said the boy, who very much looked like he ate at the bakery relatively frequently. “W-why?” he stammered. “And my name isn’t Shirley, it’s Peter.”

     “Peter, wait a moment here, I have something for you!” Racka dashed inside his house, found a large bag of Neopoints, and ran back outside. Thankfully, the boy was still there, waiting, viewing “hoipy boisday” TikiHead videos on his smartphone.

     “Here is more than enough Neopoints for two cakes. Buy one for you, and – you know the giant wedding cake in the window of the bakery?”

     “Yes!” called the boy with growing excitement. “The one that’s as big as me!”

     “What an entertaining lad you are!” exclaimed Racka. “Yes, that one. I would like you to purchase it, and to pay for the Bride and Groom Usukis adorning its top to be immediately replaced with birthday candles. And edible fondant streamers! Candles and streamers down the whole length of the cake!” He started giggling as he took the Chomby’s cell phone and inputted an address – that of Aesop. He gave back the phone and handed over the sack of Neopoints. “Have it shipped there, anonymously, by the early afternoon if possible. And keep the change, you cleanly animal!”

     “Yes sir!” shouted the boy with a salute before he jogged off in the direction of the bakery.

     Shaking with excitement, Racka donned a business casual outfit, for he had plans today. He grinned at himself in the bathroom mirror; why, he looked so pleasant, he could give his nephew stiff competition!

     But there was something he had to do before he embarked on today’s adventures. He booted his laptop, opened his word processing application, and retyped and formatted the list of suggestions he had drafted during his time at the Public Forum Boards with Stone (for he had lost his original handwritten notes during his latter adventures with the Spirits).

     Oh, he had received much feedback, and it was time he listened to it! After Stone’s Acara, why, he would never refuse to listen to the player base again! The Poogle had formulated many plans for Neopets.com. Myriad elements required a redesign and debugging: customization; NeoMail; site navigation; one’s Inventory; and the list went on. He would get the lead programmers at TNT HQ on it – and in the event, there were no lead programmers, he would see that some were hired!

     Though his plans did not stop there, oh no! He was going to streamline and improve many site features: the pace of the mobile conversion; the Battledome; the revival of UC pets; various contests, especially the Caption Contest; reference material, particularly for (actual) newbies; and the Public Forum Boards, and other ways by which Neopians could interact with and grow closer to each other. It warmed him just thinking about a united Neopia, united in positivity rather than in hostility!

     And why stop at low-hanging fruit? Why, good fortune favoured the ambitious, did it not!? Racka was not the Ghost of Birthday Future, but he foresaw new games (and not just games like slots or paint gun war, but real, fun games – like that GORDLE on the GNPO Homepage, or a NeoQuest Tabletop Game!), site themes (Mystery Island needed one for some reason, didn’t it?), and – why yes, of course! A brand-new plot! One that maybe involved a faerie or two, or possibly Lutari Island, but also something unique, original. Something that would really wow the denizens of this virtual world! Maybe he would even ask the content creators, the citizens who were artists and writers, to assist in the story’s development – how exciting might that be!?

     Also, website security! He pledged that he would continue to improve it. He would see to it that the various holes in the site through which data leaked were patched. And that the number pad would be properly integrated into 2FA, that was for sure!

     His mind lingered to Stone’s other child, the Ogrin, and those executives in the grungy boardroom… Something had to be done about corporate greed. Why, there were to be serious reforms at the NC Mall, this he would pledge! That NC Mall info often took precedence to other content updates in the news was, he realized with a start, absurd.

     And while he thought of it, what better way to battle green than to give every Neopian 750 NC with which to purchase a new Neopets.com birthday outfit? Why not!? He quickly printed a bunch of free NC vouchers to hand out at will.

     Both children being failures flitted through his mind. No, this wouldn’t do. Something needed to be done about the auto buyers, the item inflators, the cheaters, the lacklustre support at HQ, and the merchants guild. He would see to that! The Neopian economy would not be fixed in a day, but he could take small steps to improve it. By Adam, he was going to give the poorer Neopians greater potential to fulfil their dreams; rare items would be re-released through respectable and equitable channels, like the Advent Calendar, creative contest prize pools, the Hidden Tower, or new methods like a new Wishing Well, and more. Yes, he would see to that, too! Stone’s children, and all future children, would not inherit a world bleaker than the one in which he was raised.

     Speaking of, there were so many poor, abandoned pets of all ages, species, and colours – pets who had lived in bleakness most of their lives. The pound needed a major overhaul, and it would get one! No pet would ever be stuck again by the bureaucratic process, for all were worthy and ready for adoption. And for all those abandoned pets stuck on user accounts – he would see them get the chance to be reborn, to live again, happier than ever before.

     Finally, the death of Flash may have crippled the virtual world, but Racka would seek to rectify the problems immediately! He planned to prompt the TNT team to promptly convert and make accessible the remaining world maps. And, there would be game conversions – lots of game conversions! And not conversions of dubious quality, no, these were to be top-notch! Young Neopians would again make 100k NP a day, and have fun in so doing. Oh, he couldn’t wait to see the look on Abigail and AAA’s faces when he told them their gaming events would resume in full force. Why, it was about time he should be venturing there, no?

     Racka quickly saved the file, titled “roadmap.rtf”, and made a mental note to send it to the TNT staff come the fresh workday tomorrow.

     The Poogle hurried to the NeoHome where he knew his nephew lived. Along the way, he gave every man, woman, other, and child he passed an NC voucher. And to those that looked extra poor or dispirited, he left a tidy sum of Neopoints, too.

     He paced back and forth in front of the door at least ten times before he mustered the resolve to knock on the wood.

     “Uncle?” asked Chadley with genuine surprise when the door was opened.

     “Chadley!” exclaimed the Poogle. “Good afternoon! Will you invite me into your home, or shall we wait outside all day in the chilled air? Either is good with me, so long as I am with you!”

     Dumbfounded, the Zafara embraced him and let him inside. And they talked, and laughed, and traded jabs at each other, until Abigail arrived – for she had been shopping for last-minute birthday party provisions. And his future niece by marriage started upon seeing him, for it was more likely to her that she would have seen a Ghost before she saw Racka attend any such birthday get-together, or any other get-together for that matter.

     And they talked, and laughed, until AAA came. And Racka discussed with them his plans to convert games, and sought AAA’s advice about the topic, and AAA was delighted to be hired as a consultant of sorts. And they dined, drank, and played games; and, at a tie vote broken through a dice roll, they watched Chadley’s Wild Birthday Party – though the Zafara skipped over the more explicit parts.

     But Racka did not let his revelry best him, oh no! He was at TNT HQ bright and early the next morning, for he had made it his goal to out Aesop coming in late. The clock read 8 a.m. Oh, the waiting had begun. Racka wrung his hands together expectantly.

     And whilst he waited… he penned a letter to Jkuhgar, Aesop’s dearest lad. In the letter, written in his own handwriting, he admitted the unfairness of the shadowbans and the botched Altador Cup standings. He said he would start – nae, by the time Jkuhgar received the letter, he would have started – communicating with the Altador Cup Committee and forcing them to admit their foul play. Why, those Committee buffoons would never again get a pass for their incompetence. And Racka would personally see to it that everyone in Aesop’s family was unshadowbanned… no, that every legitimate actor in Neopia would see this unfair impediment lifted! “I’m sorry it took this long for a reply,” he said aloud as he finished the letter.

     The clock read 9 a.m. Then a quarter after. Racka decided he would return the call of that Charity from the other day. And he offered the little old lady on the end of the line a large sum of Neopoints, for they were merely simply collecting interest, else. It was time they made a difference.

     “Oh my, Mr Rackattackattack… are you serious?” asked the lady, as dumbfounded as Chadley had been the day earlier.

     “I am as serious as Borovan is delicious,” he said with a smile. “Thank you for providing this opportunity for me to give back!”

     “No, thank you, good sir!” the feminine voice replied, audibly shaken by his goodwill toward less fortunate Neopians.

     And the two conversed further, and when Racka realize who this Mrs Hopbobbin was, he promised her there would be another Charity Corner soon. He also pledged that anyone with leftover points from its previous iteration would be able to spend them well before the new one started. And, he planned to make another investment in the lives and land of the Dacardians.

     A few short minutes of work later – just after Racka clicked the “send to all staff” button, with the roadmap attached, in his NeoMail client – Aesop arrived at the office. A full one hour and forty-two minutes late. The human sat down at his desk, logged onto his computer, and tried to appear as punctual as possible.

     “Aesop!” growled Racka with an accustomed sternness in his tone. “You are late.”

     “I am very sorry sir,” Aesop winced as he stood and came to Racka’s office door. “I am late, much too late. But Neopets.com’s birthday is only once a year! And I was spending such a wonderful time with my family, someone even sent us a giant cake, you see—”

     “Let me say this, friend,” Racka continued, his harshness evaporated, “I will not allow this to continue! And thus,” he finished, barely able to contain his giddiness, “I am going to see that your salary is increased!”

     Aesop joined the cult of the dumbfounded. “You… what?” he said, his voice quivering with uncertain excitement.

     “Just what I said, you wonderful creative head you!” Racka affirmed. “In fact, I plan to implore JumpStart to get the parent company to raise all the salaries of TNT employees! And more than that, I am going to do what I can so more money flows into the Neopets.com virtual world, rather than side projects, disparate wellness companies, or what have you.” He looked straight into Aesop’s eyes, which were now glossy with joy. Yes, this was how long-term, sustainable growth would be achieved – not whatever those execs had barked about. “This is the beginning of a new era of our virtual world, of Neopets.com.”

     The two talked, and discussed, and Racka pledged to assist Aesop’s family as best as he could. He gave Jkuhgar’s letter to Aesop, and told him to give it to the little Moehog when he returned home at the end of the day.

     And the Poogle was better than his word. He did it all and more. And to Jkuhgar, Racka became like a second father. Racka even rolled out a formal “other” description and an eyelash toggle feature when the little Moehog decided he/they wanted eyelashes.

     Racka had his haters, for there would always be haters, but he had far more who liked what he was doing for the virtual world. And he loved making their collective world better. It became his driving purpose. Never again would he let himself lapse into indifference. He hung around the Public Forum Boards often, gathering suggestions, providing unbiased support, and interacting with the community. He would always listen to user feedback, and refute greed wherever it bubbled.

     His outlook on life was completely different. To celebrate and complete his transformation, the Poogle even had himself painted from Darigan to Faerie! He felt so lighthearted now that he could almost fly, after all, so the change was only natural.

     Racka received no further visits from Ghosts or Spirits, but held fast to his belief that the past, present, and future were at work within him. And he came to embody the true togetherness, kindness, charity, reflection, and revelry of the Neopets.com Birthday holiday, all year long, for all of his years.

     May that be said of each of us as well! Happy Birthday, Everyone!

     The End.