"Someone took your modem cord, Tex.  It's at the bottom of the swimming pool." Fizzy announced to Tex's closed door in a concerned tone, just after taking Tex's modem cord and throwing it into the swimming pool.  Tex flung open the door, shot an impatient glance toward the hall clock, and hurried off toward the patio.  Bearing in mind that Tex was a rather pathetic swimmer with his big, clunky hooves, Fizzy knew she had about five minutes.

She crept through Tex's room with all the skill of an FBI agent (well, a second-rate FBI agent), looking under beds and in drawers for a female hair ribbon, sniffing the air for traces of perfume, searching in boxes for gooshy love letters. Nothing, she thought with growing frustration.

Until she found the Mother Lode.

Behind the desk, in a shoe box, were innumerable pieces of paper, all with one name written many many times: Magic Star.