12 Days of Misery

Day 8

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

Eight tricky fir trees

Seven pint-sized captors

Six gruesome killings

Five vicious felines

Four cold shoulders

Three silver bullets

Two motel beds

And an old friend in university

"So you sit there and wait for the train..." Cassie's breath was forming white, fluffy clouds in front of her face.

"Yeah." Eric's eyes were darting from tree to tree.

"And then the train comes..."

"Indeed."

"And it goes past you..."

"Yep."

"And you find this enjoyable why?"

"Look, I don't expect you to understand. It's a cultured European thing."

"I definitely buy that trainspotting is a European thing, because much like every other European thing, it's pointless and stupid – soccer, for instance."

"How very dare you? Don't you know they call soccer the beautiful game?"

"It's about as beautiful as Helen Thomas, who, by the way, I still can't believe you'd fuck."

"How are you still hung up about that?"

"I know I shouldn't be. You're a living mess and I should be used to expecting only the worst from you, but you manage to surprise me anyway."

"You know what your problem is? You don't give anything a chance. Come trainspotting with me one day. It'll be a blast."

"I'd rather jam red-hot pokers into my eyes and have earphones playing Yoko Ono on infinite loop stitched into my ear canals."

"And I'd rather get out of this forest. I'd say we're walking in circles, but I haven't been able to recognize the same place twice since we set off."

"You need to upgrade your phone, partner. It's already 2012, and you don't have GPS. That's pretty shameful."

"Yes, I should have a smartphone that I leave in the car – that would be much more helpful."

"I didn't think I'd need it, not with you being the master tracker and all."

"I never said I was a master tracker. All I said was I can navigate by the sun."

"So why can't you?"

"Because it's so overcast that I can't even tell which cloud the sun is hiding behind."

"A likely excuse."

"You lead the way, then."

"Why? So you can blame me for our predicament again?"

"It's like you don't want us to ever make it back to the car."

"Of course I do! Poor little Beano is all alone and has been all day while we've been out here hunting for demonic snowmen."

"Cassie, I hate to break it to you, but with how big that hole in the side of your weasel's cage is getting, I'm sure he's already escaped and has moved in with the rats in our walls. In fact, they've probably eaten him by now."