Two years later...
Vinyl sat at the kitchen table, reading that day's newspaper. After their marriage a year and a half before, she and Octavia had moved to the outskirts of Ponyville, where they ran one of Equestria's most successful wineries. They donated most of their profits to charitable causes, and supplemented their income with tips from singing or playing music at local events.
Octavia came in. "Morning, Vinyl."
"Good morning, Octy."
"What are you thinking for breakfast, Vinyl?"
"Ahhh...egg whites and biscuits."
"That sounds lovely, Vinyl. Want to start the biscuits for me?"
"In a minute, I'm almost finished." Unbidden, Vinyl flipped to the obituaries. The headline shocked her.
Prominent Psychologist Rorschach Dies At 87
"Something wrong, Vinyl?"
"Rorschach died last night."
"Oh...that's sad."
"Wait, listen to this. 'One of the chief requests of his will involved the contents of a gift he received two years ago from a unicorn named Vinyl Scratch, seemingly as compensation of some kind: a pair of sunglasses and a voice message thanking him for his services. He requested that these be returned to the sender, along with a letter and a cassette tape.'"
"You gave him your sunglasses?"
"It was the most meaningful thing I could think of."
The letter and tape came a few days later. The tape contained a recording of their interactions at the train station ticket counter, and, at the end, a recording of "White Christmas" that Rorschach had apparently sang himself and a message saying "Thank you, Vinyl. You made an old man feel like he's done some true good in the world."
The letter read as follows:
My dear Vinyl,
You have brought me great joy with the letter you sent me. I can rest easy now knowing I've done some true good in the world.
Your message moved me greatly. I listen to it every day to make sure I don't forget what I've done.
I hope your Christmas is as wonderful as you've made mine.
With fondest regards,
Rorschach.
P.S.-Merry Christmas. Whatever happens, good luck.
END.