12 Days of Misery

Day 4

On the fourth day of Christmas my true love sent to me

Four cold shoulders

Three silver bullets

Two motel beds

And an old friend in university

"What's the matter with you? Aren't you enjoying your breakfast?"

Cassie poked the lump of mystery meat with her plastic fork. "If I had a choice between eating this for the rest of my life or retiring as an ascetic monk in the desert, well, let's just say I'd get my sun hats ready."

"With the way you normally eat, I'm sorry to say, but I don't see you surviving long on bread alone. You'd probably end up eating the visitors that come to you for guidance."

"Cannibalism seems preferable to this crap."

"For all you know, this crap is human."

"Eric, I doubt it's even actual meat. The way it squeaks when you cut it is unlike anything I've ever seen before."

Eric laughed, but Cassie didn't return it. Instead, she continued to stare at him with resentful eyes.

"OK, out with it," Eric said. "Tell me what's got you in such a foul mood, because it sure as hell ain't about this shit breakfast. Are you on the blot?"

"The what?"

"You know, your twinkle-bleeds."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Are you in need of feminine hygiene products?" Eric accentuated each word as if he was talking to a non-English speaker.

"My God, Eric, does the word 'period' not exist in your vocabulary?"

"I was trying to be couth."

"Does that work for you when you're hanging outside of fast food places begging for money?"

"As it so happens, I have enough work to keep me both busy and financially afloat."

"Is that where you went last night?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

"Your work is going out into the woods in the middle of the night and gunning down defenseless animals?"

Eric made a double-take. "You... saw that?"

"How you made it through multiple tours in Iraq is a mystery to me, because your situational awareness is dogshit."

"So what did you think?" Eric was eyeing Cassie cautiously.

"What am I supposed to think? That you're an unstable sadist? Because that sure as hell is what it looked like."

"What do you think it was I shot?"

"A horse, I guess. Why are you being so blasé about this?"

"Blasé is the last thing I'm being. Cassie, what you saw last night was no horse. I don't even think it's technically an animal."

"What was it then? A four-legged fungus?"

"Even that's giving it too much credit. It was a Mari Lwyd."

"You just made that up!"

"Did not!"

"Fine, how is it spelled, then?"