"I don't get it."

"That's kinda the joke," I tell him. "You're not supposed to."

"That's not funny. How is that a joke?"

"I think it's pretty funny."

"I can't see why," he says, he says.

"You want to try it again?"

That was me. And there was my little buddy, Sonic the hedgehog.

We met a long time ago, when I saved him from eating def. Unfortunately, his parents ate a very generous helping of def before I arrived on the scene.
The poor kid needed someone to look up to. That was me.
Tails. Tails the fox.
The hero of Mobius.

"Um. No thanks," my little buddy says, he says.

Sonic likes to think he's the fastest thing alive. Truth is, he's just as fast as I am, and he can't even swim or fly. Also, his spikes are useless, because I can also do the spindash. Without spikes.
But I do like to make the little guy feel special every now and again.

And that's when the president walks in. I'm sitting in his chair, behind his desk. Sonic is sitting where I should be sitting. (on the other side of it.)

"What are you doing?"

"Tails was just telling a joke," Sonic says, he says. "I don't get it."

"No. I mean you're in my chair. Tails. Why are you in my chair?"

"It was an important factor in the comedic delivery process. Would you like to hear the joke?"

"Not really."

"Aw, c'mon. It's a pretty sweet joke."

"Get out of my chair."

"I've got this great knock-knock joke, President Obamma, I just want to know what you think of it."

"It's Obama."

"Bite, god damn it."

"Fine," he says, he says. "Go."

"Well, it's a knock-knock joke, but you have to start it."

"Fuck your joke. We have more important things to-"

"Just start the joke, Obamma."

"It's Obama."

"Start. The. Joke."

"Knock-knock," he says, he says.

"Who's there?"

"I don't know," he says.

"No," says I. "That's not right. Try it again."

"I don't want to."

"Try it again."

"Knock-knock."

"Who's there?"

"Boo."

"No," says I, says I. "That's not right."

"We need to talk, Tails."

"I agree. We do need to talk Tails. I'm pretty awesome.

"That's not what I meant."

"It's what I meant, and I did, in fact, mean it."

"Snively's back, Tails. He isn't dead."

"That boner? How do you know?"

"He sent us a warning in the mail. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't use that kind of language in my office."

"What, English? I don't know any other languages, sir. Erhaps-pay ig-pay atin-lay?"

"Enough, smartass."

"On't-day orry-way. E'll-way et-gay at-thay oner-bay."

"Goddamnit, Tails. English. And enough with the boners."

"Well. I can control myself, sir, but I can't speak for my little buddy, here. He's going through puberty, you see."

"I, uh-" Sonic starts to say. I cut him off for more important matters.

"How are you so sure it isn't a hoax?"

"We had a team of specialists analyze the handwriting. We concluded the letter to be legit."

"Legit, eh?"

"Legit."

"What did the letter say?" I inquire.

"It said to beware of the shadows that will consume the city."

"What an idiot. There are shadows all over the place. At every corner. Behind every building. Underneath every baby, who, I might add, are the only people who are afraid of shadows."

"Tails, you need to take this more seriously. You know better than anyone just what this monster is capable of."

"Shitting his pants and crying while I destroy his whole world? Yeah, I remember."

"You shouldn't get a big dick, Tails," my sidekick chimes in. "I don't think it was easy as you remember it."

"Sonic, I know you recently popped your first boner and that you're excited about that. I get it. I was excited about my first boner, too. Way back when I got it, I was like, holy shit, this is awesome. That's the nature of shit. However, you shouldn't let cock become an obsession. I shudder to think what the people would think of me if they knew I had a gay sidekick."

"I'm just-"

"Sonic, I don't mind that you're effeminate and weird. I really don't. Honest injun. But other people might. I don't want to see you getting dragged behind a hover pad, so do yourself a favor, if for nobody else, and keep that shit in the bedroom with your, uh, boyfriend's. Or whatever."

"I got that terminology from you," he says, he says.

"No," says I, says I. "You didn't. Don't say that. Don't you ever say that in public. Don't you ever goddamn say that. I like vagina."

"That's not what I-"

"Will you both cut the shit?" Bobamma inquires. "I need your help. The city needs your help. My people need your help. Fuck, the universe needs your help. Stop talking about your goddamn dicks and do your fucking jobs. Help."

"How much does it pay?"

"Pay?"

"I demand hookers and blow. In that order. I want to surprise them with it For amp'd yiffins."

"Both of those things are illegal, Tails," he says, he says, sighing.

"Alright, so just fund it. I'll find the hookers, I'll buy the blow, and you can just hand me lots and lots of wallet dollars."

"So you can OD, or get AIDS?"

"You don't have to be a dick about it, Bobamma."

"It's OBAMA," he says, he says.

"Whatever. How much?"

"You get thirty thousand shineys. No better, no worse. You can suck it if you want more."

"You shouldn't use that kind of language," says I, says I. "It's very vulgar."

"Goddamnit. Stop influencing me and stop turning the tables!"

"Only if you ask me about the Big D experience."

"The Big D experience?"

"Yes. You gotta ask me to tell you about the Big D experience."

"No. This is fucking stupid."

"C'mon," says I, says I. "Don't be L7."

"El seven? Like, Spanish for the seven?"

"A square, you fag. Ask me."

He sighs. "Fine. What's up on the Big D experience?"

"It's about nine inches long and as thick as a redbull can," says I, says I, winking. "Don't worry, Bobammarammarakobamma. My little buddy and I are on the case."

"Are you going to scour the great forest and take him down?"

"I gotta better idea," says I, says I, winking. "Trust me. We'll take care of it."

I get up and nod Sonic towards the door.

"You'd better," Bobamma says. "The planet is counting on you."

Later, when I'm stuffing one dollar bills down the stripper's G string, I notice Sonic glancing around the place uncomfortably.

"What's the matter, little buddy? Don't like squirrels? Or females? Is it the females? Because I'm not going to those kinds of strip clubs."

"Um. No, that's not it. Am I, uh. Even supposed to be in here right now?"

"What do you mean? It's open and shit."

"I'm thirteen, Tails."

"I think you neglected to notice the key word in that sentence you just spoke. I'm Tails. Tails MotherFucking Prower. You're alright, trust me. You helped me take down Snively and his fat little nephew when you were only eight. I think you're emotionally mature enough at this point to handle some titties in your face. My little Sonic is growing up."

"But I-"

I stop listening and stuff another one into her nethers and nod towards my little buddy. She struts over to him, pulling her panties down, cash raining down onto the stage. Bending over backwards to place her muff right in front of his face.
I am satisfied.

Thirty dollars and six shots of whiskey later and he's trying to talk again.

"How is this getting us any closer to Snively?"

"It isn't. He's dead. Bobamma's an idiot. Wanna get closer to Snively? Try using a shovel."

I laugh at my own joke, because I'm funny.

"Than why would-"

"Shhh, Sonic. You talk too much. You should learn to enjoy life without your own worthless commentary. I like to call it spacing out. I do it all the time."

"How do you know Snively is dead?"

"Because I killed him, boy! We both did. It was like a team effort and whatnot."

"Yeah, but how do you know he died? Did you see it with your own eyes? Did you feel his pulse?"

"That's a pretty good question. I... think so?"

"Isn't it a little early for you to be drinking?"

"Isn't it a little dumb for you to be so goddamn dumb? All the time."

"Uh. I'm not sure I-"

Then everything turns white and I'm torn from the universe. I can hear them chanting in robotic voices and I'm not so who they are or why they're here or where they come from but I think I'm gonna throw up and I think my nose is blee-

Oh. Shit.
Where am I?

I can't see anything and my head hurts. I'm standing, I think, or at least, I think I'm standing. It feels kinda like I am standing.

Then, he appears before me, in all his whimpy glory. His pale, bald head, his long, slender neck that disappears into his black cloak.

"Why do you wear that thing?" I ask. "It's not only impractical, but stupid. And so overdone. I mean, Jesus. You might as well wear long black coat and dual wield pistols that never run out of ammo."

"It matters not," he replies, that dumb, smug look on his face. "You've just stepped into a steaming pile of shit that you'll never be able to scrape off your shoe."

"I don't like shit on my shoes," I says, I says.

"Nobody does," he says, smiling. "But your foot just landed in the motherload."

"What if I just buy new shoes?"

"You can't."

"Can so," I rebuttal. "Watch me."

"We'll see..."

"Who cares? You're dead anyways. I killed you so hard."

"You'll see," he says, he says. "You'll all s-"

Then I woke up with the taste of blood in my mouth.

Sonic is shaking me and asking me if I'm okay.

"I'm okay," I say. "I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"Sure, sure. Sure times two. What time is it?"

"3:00 PM."

"Really? That early?"

"I think your nose is bleeding," he says, he says.

"Fuck that," I says, I says. "Men don't bleed. The occasional leakage, maybe, but, you know."

"What on Mobius are you talking abou-"

"I need to go outside," says I, struggling to get up. "I need to make the fuzzies go away."

I wasn't lying when I said that out loud just now and there's the exit I can see it right in front of me tilting to the right and to the left and to the right or maybe I'm just stumbling too hard
Fuck it.

Press body against door and I'm temporarily blinded by the brightness that hits me in the face as I collapse into the guardrail and tumble down the ramp and open my eyes to see it.
The Death Egg, rising high above the city and blocking out the sun, casting us into shadow.

The door opens, slamming loudly into the adjacent wall as Sonic frantically sprints through.

"Tails!" he shouts. "Are you alright?"

"Bobammaramma finally did it," I says, I says. "He said something would happen and it actually happened. I guess Snively isn't dead after all."

"What are we gonna do, Tails?"

"Sonic?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you know Australians spend Christmas in the summertime?"

"No. I had no idea."

"Imagine Santa Clause in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. Flip-flops and he's standing next to a barbecue. Isn't that imagery simply mind-boggling?"

"I guess so.."

"Yeah. Hell yeah, it is."

"Tails?"

"Yeah, little guy?"

"What does all of that mean? Like, what's a Christmas?"

"I haven't a clue, little guy. I haven't a fucking clue."