The debate between yellow mustard and deli mustard was something Sonic never understood. Why bother with either? There was only one thing that belonged on a hot dog, and it wasn't any kind of mustard.

Well, maybe there were two things.

"Tails, can you pass the cheese?" Sonic asked. He squinted. The sun was in his eyes again, so he reached up, adjusted the umbrella over their picnic table, then leaned back in his chair, kicking his legs onto the table.

Tails pressed his fingers to his forehead, but handed Sonic the cheese anyway. "Do you really need to put your feet on the table? While we're eating?"

Sonic sprinkled the cheese on his chili dog then took a bite.

"'Course I do," Sonic said, chewing. He swallowed. "Hey, you know when Mets is supposed to get here?"

Tails shrugged. "He's your boyfriend. How should I know?"

"I think he's late. Which is weird. He's usually freakishly precise about these things," Sonic said.

"Isn't that him now?" Tails said.

Sonic turned. Sure enough, Metal was walking toward them, trudging through the wet grass that spread like paste throughout the park.

Metal greeted them with a curt nod. "I apologize for my tardiness. There was...something that came up."

Sonic dumped his chili dog on his plate, sprang up, and squeezed Metal into an embrace. "Fashionably late, I say! Come on over and sit down."

Metal stepped up to the table then paused. "Sonic, I have something I need to tell you. Please. It would be better if you were seated."

Sonic eyed Tails, returning to his seat. "Mets? Is something wrong?"

Metal tapped his fingers together and looked away. Sonic shrugged, taking a sip of his soda. Metal did this sometimes. It was probably nothing.

"I am pregnant."

Sonic choked. He barely managed to turn away from the table before spitting his mouthful of soda everywhere.

"W-what—" Sonic stammered.

"I am pregnant," Metal said simply.

"How—" Sonic glanced at Tails, who was only partially trying to hide his amusement.

"Do not worry," Metal said. "I can assure you that you are the father."

"Of course I'm the father! You—"

Wait. What was he thinking? This was insanity itself. "There's no way you're pregnant, Metal. That's like...super not possible. For so, so many reasons."

"It is possible. I am pregnant. Therefore it is possible."

Sonic groaned. Was he really going to have to do this? Was he really going to have to explain the birds and the bees to Metal Sonic? Of all the ridiculous things to have happened—

"Listen. Metal. You're not—"

Metal grabbed Sonic's arm, dragging him out of the chair. "I am going into labor now. We must hurry."

Metal revved his engine and flew off with Sonic, leaving Tails alone in the park, who paused for a moment, then laughed, shaking his head.


Metal threw open the door to their house and dropped Sonic on the living room sofa. He then turned and marched back to the front door.

"What are you—" Sonic stopped as Metal dropped something into his lap.

It was...a mail package? Someone had definitely sent it to them. It even had a return address, from "Station Square Media Network."

"Metal. Listen. This is getting ridiculous. You're not…"

It was the look on Metal's face that made Sonic pause. He had never seen Metal look so proud.

Metal plopped down on the couch next to him and squeezed his hand, beaming.

"I want you to open it," Metal said.

Sonic couldn't bring himself to contradict Metal. Not when Metal looked so happy.

"Okay," Sonic shrugged. "I'll open it."

Sonic peeled away the packing tape and folded back the box flaps. Inside was a wad of packing peanuts with a note, printed on what appeared to be standardized corporate stationary. Sonic read it aloud.

"We at Station Square Media Network would like to thank you for your appearance on our show. While your sudden disappearance during the middle of our program disqualified you, we would still like to offer you this consolation prize."

Below the printed text, the author had signed her name in bright, purple ink.

"Yours truly, Marilyn."

"Marilyn," Sonic said. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

"We met her on our first date. Remember? It was nine months ago today."

"Oh yeah. Marilyn the Goat." Sonic cringed. He had awkward memories of that night. Sure, he had met Metal, which was great, but the show producers hadn't exactly been charitable toward them when the show finally aired.

Metal tore the letter from Sonic's hand and threw it aside. "Come on. Finish opening it."

"Alright," Sonic said. He thrusted both his arm into the box, brushing aside the packing peanuts and lifting out a small, metallic box about the size of a toaster.

Wait...it was a toaster.

Metal placed one hand over the toaster and grabbed Sonic's hand with the other, staring at the prize in awe.

"Our son," he whispered. "We are now parents."

Sonic gapped. He said nothing. He could say nothing. Metal was beaming with pride, and in Sonic's hands, was a toaster.

The toaster shook. A screen lit up on its side, black and white, and two, small eyes blinked up at him. Sonic nearly dropped the thing in shock.

"What the—"

"Would you look at that," Tails said, standing at the front door. He walked up to them. "A ToastPro 5000. The latest model. They say it can learn your toast preferences and more."

Metal cradled the toaster, which looked up at him in bewilderment, as if seeing the world for the first time.

"And more? What's the more?" Sonic asked.

"Haven't you been watching the news? This model created a pretty big controversy. Apparently, in order to make the ToastPro 5000 really good at toasting, they had to make it really intelligent. Like, really, really intelligent. Out of the box, it doesn't know much, but..."

Tails trailed off. Metal was still cradling the toaster, which appeared to have fallen asleep.

"You're telling me they made sentient toasters. They literally took machines capable of thinking, capable of feeling, machines with hopes and dreams of their own, and trapped them in toasters," Sonic said.

Tails cringed. "Yeah. It is kind of horrible, isn't it? But ToastPro claims the toasters won't actually develop like that unless they're taught to think that way. If you just kept it in the kitchen and only used it for toasting, it wouldn't really become sentient. Probably."

"This is our son. We will raise him." Metal suddenly stood up and stepped forward, taking Tails's hand. "Please. He needs a body."

Sonic stood up and wrapped his arm around Metal's shoulder. "Mets is right. If this toaster is really sentient, then we can't leave him like this. Could you upload his consciousness into something better?"

Tails nodded. "Of course I can. But listen—the toasters only have the capacity for sentience. He would still need to learn, and so you'd still need to raise him. Are you sure this is what you want?"

Sonic squeezed Metal closer.

"I'm sure."