That Time of Year Again

"Yes, I'm a hedgehog and yes, I like chilli dogs. But I want my onions pickled, not prickled, alright?"

It was amazing how a single pun had kept the chilli dog salesman occupied for three whole minutes. Sonic knew that he was hardly innocent of making jokes at other peoples' expense (or specifically, Robotnik). But as enjoyable as it was to drive the dictator crazy in a manner that actually benefitted Mobius, the hedgehog at least had the decency to not flog a dead horse. But this guy not only sold chilli dogs that weren't even a pale imitation of Chuck's, but had resorted to making jokes based on Sonic's species.

"Fine, fine. Three mobiums pal."

"Here. And we're not pals."

Turning away from the salesman, the foremost leader of the Sonic Underground faced the music. Namely the pale imitation of a band that was playing on the stage as the Christmas party drew on. It wasn't exactly bad, and Sonic accepted that his stamina far exceeded Sonia's and Manic's, but even so, he was tempted to get on the stage, convert his medallion to a guitar and rock the night away.

"Just think…" came a voice. "This time next year, we'll be able to celebrate Christmas on the surface of Robotropolis."

"Mobotropolis, Cyrus. And where'd you come from?"

"Oh, I've been with some snowmen on their way to the Snow Ball."

Sonic rolled his eyes as the lion leaned up against the rusty wall along with him. Cyrus's presence was welcome, though slightly unexpected. He'd expected him to be working on some new device or entertaining children at Sanctuary rather than hanging out in the bowls of Robotropolis. After his aborted double-cross, the techie had been reluctant to hang out with the people he had nearly doomed.

Still, neither Sonic or his siblings held it against him. And Cyrus understood that.

"It's a real shame," the lion continued. "It was rare enough to get snow in Mobotropolis even before Robotnik took it over. Nowadays the air's too dense to hold much moisture for long."

Sonic nodded, taking a bite out of his chilli dog and finding himself yearning for the ones Chuck used to make. He didn't understand atmospheric science that much, nor did he have a desire to. And considering that snow was effectively water in solid form…yeah, it wasn't that appealing.

"Anyway, I hate to dump this on you guys right now, but I've got an upcoming assignment for you," said Cyrus eventually. "One with Daisy the Cow."

"Huh? Isn't she the one who insists on wearing a bell everywhere?
"Since her horn stopped working? Yeah, pretty much."

Sonic didn't know what that meant any more than the meaning of what Sonia called etiquette. Etiquette that as far as he could tell, involved driving other Resistance members nuts in circumstances that were as far removed from the aristocracy as possible. At least Manic had some sense, as he entertained some spies with a drum solo…provided he didn't bring down the house literally as well as figuratively.

"So anyway Sonic, I'll have you guys set up with-…"

"Cyrus, not now, okay?" the hedgehog murmured, not sure what was irritating him. "It's Christmas."

"Come on Sonic, when has the time of year stopped you from doing anything?"

"Well, whenever it's Sonia's birthday, that means I have to zip around Robotropolis looking for-…"

"Sonic, you guys share the same birthday."

"…what's your point?"

At this point, Sonic had become redder than a tomato that had seen the salad dressing. Such a thought sent his annoyance level out of the troposphere and into the stratosphere…whatever that was. Cyrus was beating him in this war of the words and he couldn't get why.

"Sonic, I know what's bothering you," the lion announced solemnly. "Want me to tell you?"

"Please."

"It's the chilli dog. You're eating sub-standard food after hearing a sub-standard joke that no doubt came from a sub-standard Christmas cracker. And while the Resistance thrives on the sub-standard, we can't let that get us down to a sub sub-standard level."

"You said sub twice Cyrus."

"I know. That was the point."

Sonic opened his mouth, then closed it, and not in the process of eating a chilli dog that was indeed sub-standard and in all essence, one he wasn't obliged to eat anyway. His friend had a point, come to think of it. After a year of…well, 'resisting' Robotnik and his forces, getting out of the mental quagmire for a single day could be difficult. Sonic had never thought he was in one in the first place, but...well, it didn't matter. He could rack his brains later.

All that mattered now was beating Cyrus when it came to the cracker he'd just offered.