-bleep-

Why the fucking fuck was he always out in the foulest winter weather? The normally suave male was about ready to screech in frustration at this point, the screaming wind driving snow into his orifices (the front ones only, luckily) as he struggled through it. Fuck precipitation and all its fucking forms. He just wanted one fucking sunny day, ok? Just fucking one!

He stopped dead, eying a rock a rock suspiciously. Hadn't he seen that rock before? It had a very peculiar twist to it and some shiny sparkles under the snow. He was sure he'd seen that before. Was he going in circles? FUCK.

He struck out in another direction entirely, pushing against the wind, squinting against the icy wind. And then stopped, incredulous.

THAT. FUCKING. ROCK.

"Fuuuuuuuuck I fucking hate snow," he shouted to the unseen, uncaring sky, head tipped back as he planted his legs wide and glared up into the whiteness.