Fukku de go! Katto de go!

It took little effort to modify his Rope Arm. Notable for his work in prosthetics, Yuuki Joji had been working on perfecting the replacement for his absent right arm since first he had lost it—since he had been held down by his former Destron colleagues before the blistering heat of an oasis of acid, the shape of Yoroi Gensui bellowing with laughter as he stood there, his arms folded across his chest.

He did not think of those days often now, only when the pain became remarkable, only when he was called upon to transform himself once more into Riderman, and certainly there had been no need of that recently, not with the ten Riders policing the world against further Shocker splinter cells, those old Nazi war criminals souring in South American nations, desperate to transcend the fragile shapes of their bodies.

He lifted up the new prosthetic Cassette Arm, aiming at the large tree in the far corner of the room, its branches presently stark, bare of all seasonal directions.

Standing off to the left, Kazami Shiro eyed him with suspicion, a mug of hot chocolate held in one hand.

"You sure this is going to work?" he asked.

"I'm worried about the tracking," Yuuki admitted.

"Perhaps then, it might be advisable to wai—"

Yuuki fired, a string of fairy lights bursting forth from his mechanical arm, the recoil throwing him back, the decorations going wide. He stumbled, became aware of the sound of Kazami's mug hitting the ground, of hot chocolate splashing up over the tatami mat, and, in the far corner of the room, the tree remained undecorated.

Ruefully, he turned towards his friend, seeing the other man now ensnared in a string of Christmas tree lights.

"I said perhaps it might be advisable to wait," Kazami repeated with a sigh.