Thief With A Bike ~ Krii7y

~~~ { 31 } ~~~

Smit and John made it home safe, after ludicrously parking their sleds on the top of a snowbank, and tumbling down.

"How deep is snow supposed to be, Jesus Christ!" John said as he tried to get himself unstuck from the waist deep snow. Every time he tried, it just got worse.

Smit was no help, he sat on the shovelled part of the cabins driveway, and laughed his ass off as more struggle ensued.

"Help me, dumbass."

"Maybe don't jump in the snow next time?"

"I didn't know what snow was before I met you, cut me some slack!"

Smit giggled as he grabbed onto Johns arm, and tugged him out of the snow.

"Fucking hell."

"Don't turn British, dayum."

"You haven't even seen Bri'ish yet." John said in an actual British accent, and Smit only laughed more.

"How are we supposed to get the sleds back down?" John looked up towards the sleds, he was still lying on the ground like he was dead, but he didn't care.

"Climb." Smit shrugged, "actually didn't think about that."

"Maybe we'll have to wait until the snow melts to get them down."

"Don't say that, we might have too, actually."

"What brand is mine?" John had been riding the pure black sled the whole time, and didn't even bother to read the writing on the side, just so he could ask Smit what it was.

"Sidewinder, mountain track, I love my YamYams."

Yamaha, John loved the new nickname for it.

"How'd it work for you? I know that a huge leap after not even seeing a sled until yesterday."

"That thing is fun as fuck." John chuckled, remembering how he'd gotten the track too deep, and it shot out of the hole he'd dug once he full throttled it.

"Yeah, mines a Sidewinder too, but it doesn't have a mountain track, I left the trail on." Smit giggled when he saw Johns goggles filled with snow, and him trying to remove said snow with minimal effort.

Johns helmet looked less like a motorcycle helmet, and more like a dirt bike helmet, which he loved. He loved everything Smit gave him, a little known fact.

"We have two options for the rest of the day once we put this on Grizzy's sled. We can go on the trails, or we can load up the sleds and take them to the mountains. Either or works for me." Smit turned back to the door, wondering if he should put the sleds back inside.

"I mean, I'd like the trails, but what do you do on them anyway?"

"You sled, drink, get tickets, and wrap sleds around trees."

"Drink? Fuck it, we going on the trails." John exclaimed as he got up from his not-so-comfy spot on the ground. 

"I'll tell Grizzy to pack the vodka, he's the only one with storage space." Smit nodded and looked back towards the sleds. "You think you can get your sled down?"

John also looked towards the sleds, he absolutely could not, but he'd try anyway.

"Why?"

"Im not making you sled on the trails with a mountain track, thats just cruel."

"Okay, I'll try and get up there."

And try as he might, but Smit's incessant laughter, and the deep snow helped him so little, he didn't really get far.