"Okay… so this goes here, and this goes there… ah! Got it!" Slippy began jumping up and down once more in joy as the wire of lights he had wrapped around the little tree lit up in a test run. In the process of setting it up, he had nearly strangled himself with a garland that had gotten tangled on both his neck and the tree lights.
"Setting up a Christmas party is more dangerous than I'd imagined," he had thought to himself in amusement while Peppy had cut off the garland hastily with some scissors.
This was the first time in many, many years that Slippy had taken out the tree, and he was darned proud of how it now looked, despite the fact that it was missing bits and pieces and had very few decorations. But the tree was small and bare enough such that the lack of ornaments complemented the lack of branches for them to be placed on. Slippy was a tad disappointed that he still couldn't find the star that he wanted to put on top of the tree – but then again, there were a lot of things he wished he had right now. He was making do with what he had, forcing the optimist in him to appreciate the little things. The ornaments he did manage to salvage included the glittery red heart, in addition to a yellowed paper cut-out of an Arwing. The latter was one of the last decorations that he salvaged today, buried deep at the bottom of one of the last boxes he checked. The toad smiled at the memory that it brought back.
A few years ago, Fox had hinted very strongly to the team that he wanted an Arwing model for Christmas. For the life of him, Slippy couldn't find one – or, rather, none in the price range that any of the teammates could afford. When Christmas Day came and they opened each other's presents, Falco handed Fox a large and elaborately packaged box. Fox excitedly tore open the wrapping only to reveal a crude paper cut-out of what looked only remotely like a badly scribbled Arwing, at the bottom of an otherwise empty shoe box.
Slippy had cringed when seeing the present, expecting Fox to be disappointed. But instead, Fox simply squeezed his eyes shut, then proceeded to let out the loudest, longest and most sincere laugh that Slippy had ever heard before from his team leader.
Slippy had learnt something that day. He learnt that friendship mattered so much more than material objects. And he had never seen Christmas the same way since.
Now, he was simply sad that Fox had been distancing himself for pas last year or so, ever since he and Krystal met. Slippy didn't blame either of them, but nonetheless, it made him lonely. At least, he had gotten closer to Falco – and even Peppy – during this time. Still, he missed Fox… and he hoped very much that the Christmas party they were planning would somehow work out in the end, as badly as things were going right now.
"SLIPPY! FALCO! What is going on!?" Peppy's panicked voice filled Slippy's ears, and at the same time, his nose picked up an extremely odd smell. It smelled like something was burning, but with a strange, chemical component added in.
"Shoot, shoot, SHOOT!" the avian yelled as he opened the door of the oven, only to let out a large cloud of black smoke.
"Tarnation!" Peppy added, right before the fire alarm went off and blasted in everyone's ears with unbearably loud, high-pitched shrieks.
It took ten whole minutes for the smoke to clear, and the alarm to shut up at last. Falco had ran into the bathroom coughing and choking, while Peppy fanned the smoke desperately using the cardboard of the cake mix box which he had ripped open. Concerned neighbors had even knocked to find out what was going on, their own Christmas plans interrupted by the cacophony.
Now, the contents of the oven were plain for all to see. The trio stood, staring unbelievably at the sight.
On the oven rack, Falco's easy-bake cake stood extremely charred around the edges of the baking pan. Furthermore, at the very bottom of the oven, right beside the heating element, there lay a blackened blob of plastic that seemed once to have been bright yellow. Although the object in question was also half-melted, it appeared to have also originally been in the form of a star.
"What… in the name of the Lylat System is that?" Peppy dared to ask.
"Is that… is that…" Falco began.
"Oh… no…" Slippy's eyes opened wider than ever.
"Don't tell me… it's…" Falco's jaw was open in disbelief.
"Yeah… That star I was looking for... Guess this is it," Slippy answered sheepishly. He swallowed. "I was wondering where it went…"
"You. Baked. The. Stupid. Star." Falco spoke slowly, with emphasis on every word and the pauses in-between. He let the words sink in, angry and toxic.
"Falco, that is not fair to Slippy," the older hare interjected. "Shouldn't you have also checked what was in the oven before starting to bake it?"
"And I suppose it's my fault that the cake is burnt too. How swell," Falco said sarcastically. He then moved his wings in a circle above his head, in a theatrical gesture. "Mystery of mysteries. Which burnt first? The cake or the star?"
"Falco…" Peppy asked hesitantly. "At what temperature did you set the oven to bake?"
The avian blinked, recalling. "Don't remember. Maybe five hundred degrees?"
"Tarnation! You set the oven to five hundred degrees?" Peppy's jaw had dropped, and Falco suddenly felt heat rise up to the feathers on his face. He bit his lower beak again.
It was Slippy who interrupted them. As he spoke, his voice began to crack. "N-no, don't blame Falco. It's all my fault. I remember now. I put the star on the kitchen counter. How it ended up in the oven after, I… I don't know. I can only hypothesize that Falco… maybe knocked over the star somehow when he was putting the cake in. As crazy as that sounds..." He shook his head slowly and sadly at the same time.
Peppy patted the toad on the shoulder gently. "We will never know, now shall we? I say, we focus on the positive. What's done is done."
Falco bit down on his lower beak even harder, because all this while, he began to recall seeing a small, yellow, star-shaped object on the end of the counter where he was going to start making the cake. In the process of setting up, he had pushed a pile of junk to the other side of the kitchen counter, the end next to the oven. He remembered having pushed some broken pencils, a heap of receipts and some random trinkets. But it wasn't impossible that he had pushed the star along with it… And maybe it had rolled on top of the oven, near the edge…
Darn it all, he thought.
"I-is it… is the cake dangerous to eat now?" Slippy asked, sniffling. By this time, Peppy had pulled the cake out with some oven mitts, and was poking the middle with a spoon.
"Probably. Plastic fumes are very toxic." Peppy rubbed his chin with his left paw, the one that was not poking at the cake. "Not too sure I'd trust it. Besides, the cake's uncooked in the middle."
"Everything… everything is ruined…" Tears were welling up in Slippy's eyes now. He had tried so, so hard for the night to worked out. And at the last moment, everything was going wrong. "There… there's nothing we can do…"
"Hey, hey." Falco was extremely, extremely embarrassed right now. He began to stutter, which the self-assured pilot rarely ever did. "You know what… Forget about the stupid cake. It… it's actually probably my fault that this all happened. Actually, it is all my fault. We… we still have the instant noodles, right? And… the spaghetti sauce. Coffee too. Don't forget about the coffee." He patted Slippy's back gently with his wing, as well. The toad's sniffling quieted down.
"Hey, youngsters!" Peppy suddenly called out. "It's getting late! If you dally any longer, it'll be much too late to invite Fox over." Indeed, the clock now showed eight-thirty PM.
"You heard Peppy." Falco sighed, and also gave a half-hearted kick at the oven door. He remained silent for a moment, and breathed in deeply. He then turned his head to Slippy and smiled, half-apologetically. "Hey, genius… what's the plan now?"
Slippy swallowed. A giddy feeling was coming over him, because this time, the avian was looking at him as though he was actually… waiting for an answer. And the way that Falco said it, the word "genius" had been pronounced in a friendly, almost affectionate manner as opposed to the usual sarcastic way. Gaining a bit of courage, Slippy wiped off the last remnants of a tear on his face, cleared his throat again, and straightened his back subconsciously so that he stood tall and straight.
"A-alright, guys! So, plan is… I'll go to Fox's place and get him out, because I was the last one who tried to reach him today. I've… I've actually figured out just what I could try to say so that he can't refuse. At worst, well, I'll kick in the door, like Falco suggested." Slippy laughed, taking a pause. Both of his teammates were nodding in approval.
"So, Falco and Peppy… I'll need you two to stay here. You should expect me to be return with Fox in half an hour. In the meantime, try your best to clean up whatever you can. Give him a really, really big a surprise when I knock!
"And, Falco, I'll help you finish cooking those noodles," Peppy added. "They will be lovely Christmas noodles. I'll really have to teach you all someday the fine art of cooking… to the best of my limited knowledge in this department, that is." He paused. "Truth to be told… I'm not that great at cooking myself. But one can improve at anything in this short life with a little effort, right?"
"Thanks, pops." Falco smiled at his teammate. "I'll need all the help I can get. And… hey. I appreciate it."
Slippy was dressed up and halfway out of the apartment door when Falco called out from behind him.
"And next Christmas, I'll buy you another stupid star!"