Early mornings — or nights; time in the Dreamscape is quite confusing — are always a royal pain in the behind to deal with, especially when that Masked Fool gets involved. When she’s around, things almost never go well; which is why you were overjoyed to be greeted by the sight of that very Fool in all her glory, right at your figurative doorstep.

What? Is the idea of a girl visiting you for the big holidays a little too out of this world for your feathery brain?

With a snicker, the Masked Fool you’ve been stuck with skips across the newly-decorated — by hers-truly, you can only assume, judging by the occasional mask hidden within ungodly amounts of tinsel — Dreammaster Hall of Dewlight Pavilion — a building you’ve taken recent ownership of after your brother’s sudden disappearance — her shoes clacking against the marble flooring as she approaches your dazed self — somehow still ending up surprised by her sudden appearances, even though it’s quite the common occurrence, nowadays.

Don’t worry, it’s fine… Nobody’s perfect~ What you should worry your pretty little head about is that you’ve have one Miss Sparkle right here with you! Now, I may not be as fast as that good old “Santy Claus,” but I do all my stunts without help, unlike him! Plus, I have way better tastes than he does~ Case-in-point…

At the snap of her fingers, a cacophony of sound forms all around you, though over time it calms to a more tolerable level, all of the sounds clumping all together to what you’re pretty sure is that old Christmas song by Cariah Marey, the one that retail workers loathe with all their being. A second or two later, and you feel one of Sparkle’s goodness-forsaken plushies stuffed into your hands, most likely in some humorous attempt to draw your attention away from the Rube Goldberg machine of mistletoe-hanging you spot in the corner of your eye — though, partially knowing how the Masked Fool functions, she probably wants you to see it, so she can watch and laugh as her idea somehow blows up in your face.