Yo. We're back in Goldenrod for a little while--long enough to stock up on supplies, all that kind of thing.

[Grinning like an idiot, Lancer offered the camera a small wave.]

Looks like we're gettin' the usual 'sudden egg from nowhere' thing again, huh? [He gestured vaguely over his shoulder, to where a Houndoom was curled up apparently guarding an egg. Shrugging like this wasn't unusual (to him, it really wasn't by now), Lancer brushed the topic aside with that casual mention and moved on.]

...I ain't sure what's wrong, so I thought I'd ask--Avalon's been actin' weird since we were training yesterday. Anybody ever seen anythin' like this before?

[He pointed to the little yellow Swablu perched atop his head; her cheeks were puffed out and she seemed to be shaking--vibrating, really. It was like she was desperately holding something back, waiting for the exact opportune moment.]

Well, anyway...Merry Christmas or whatever you guys like to call i--

[And that seemed to be the key phrase. In a flash of light and explosion of cotton, the tiny two pound bird turned into a long-necked golden forty-five pound monstrosity of fluff.]

[All of which was still directly on Lancer's head, the drastic change knocking him out of frame and flat onto the floor in a long string of pained cursing.]

[Merry Christmas, Lancer!]