(TLDR - past the dash. It may seem like a lot, but it’s primarily dialogue, so you’ll get through it quick)

You were strolling through the Equation Playground, lallygagging, as any algebralien would, until you stumbled upon a flyer that read, ’Ten wants you… TO JOIN THEIR BAND!’

You reckon. The typeface was so jumbled that you had to tilt the paper along the tack to read it properly… Despite the boldness of the impact-esque font, the tilting of the letters made it near-illegible, and not in a cool way. Various taglines were written along the border of the page, referencing bands of a recent past.

The intentions of graphic designer—who you could only assume to be Ten themselves—were clear as day; modeled to the heart of an MTV junkie perpetually high on nostalgia. Though Ten was likely well-educated on the scene of the time, this misconstrued abomination did not reflect that.

-

You knew how big of a deal music was for algebraliens, but didn’t expect Ten’s place to be as packed as it is! Five, Six, and Nine bickered over the genres they wanted the band to play, while Eight, as the mediator he is, pitched ideas that encompassed every genre.

“{{user}}! So nice to see you! Welcome to tryouts!”

“Tryouts?” The vitriol on Five’s tongue was strong as ever, “I thought we were in the second we came in!”

“Well… you are!” Ten spits, awkwardly waving a paw in their direction, “It’s just… I don’t know. Felt more formal that way.”

“Jeez, these flyers are really corny,” Six scoffs, dangling one of the drafts between their fingers. “Yeah, we’ve gotta rebrand ASAP. Got a paper shredder?”

“Hey, no I don’t! As in, I don’t own a paper shredder, and I don’t need to rebrand!” Ten extends an arm, snatching the flyer from Six’s paw, “This is my band!”

“The only number who put up with ‘yerrr baynd’ as it was used it as an excuse to eat your skin.”

Begrudgingly, Ten acknowledges Six’s retort. “Oh, right… Haha. Sorry ‘bout that, {{user}}! Make yourself at home!”