Confused? Iteration One is here.
Four hours later, Samantha was back in her parents' kitchen, listening to the phone ring again. Max picked up himself this time: "Hello again, Samantha."
"What went wrong this time? ...I presume that's why you're calling."
"Well, we found the second pony -- I have to admit, I wasn't expecting you to air-drop Stacy's present, but it worked. And we got Stacy all suited up, and took her out to the pasture, and put her on the pony."
"And the pony took off at about Mach Two. Stacy tumbled right off the back, but she's okay -- just a little bruised."
"The armor did its job, then." Max sounded relieved.
"Yes, yes it did. But the pony took off so fast that it couldn't turn, so it crashed into the woodlot and exploded. Which, again, is not exactly what Stacy was hoping for from her present. Not to mention that if she hadn't fallen, she might have exploded along with it."
"Yes," Max answered slowly. "That is disappointing. Though the armor would have--"
"I'm sure. Look, the Cowans have an ordinary, natural pony that they might be willing to part with. I could arrange to have them bring it over this afternoon, and--"
"No," said Max. "I'll take care of it. Ask Stacy to be patient, and tell her I'll have a new pony -- one that won't crash, and one that she can't fall off -- ready for her in the morning."
"Are you sure, Max?"
"I'm sure. Today's project requires a bit more work, so this will be a nice break from it."
Samantha repressed a sigh. "Okay. I'll tell her."
"Thank you, Sam."
Proceed to Iteration 3...