Snow Day

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Ever since he was smaller, Ronaldo had been quite fond of the snow. It gave him an excuse to wear his favorite trench coat, or his camo vest, or his long cargo pants with all the nifty pockets. The way it covered everything made for good photography to put on his aesthetic blog. He liked being able to see his breath in front of his face, and being able to bury his face into the wooly muff of his coat. Not to mention, footprints were easier to find when they were imprinted in the snow. One year, he'd found the most impressive non-human prints he'd seen in years, and after following them, and wondering if they were the prints of an alien creature, he soon learned: every foot print that wasn't human wasn't going to be an alien, and 2. Bears lived in the woods of Beach City.

When the first big snow fall of the year came to Beach City, Ronaldo was pretty excited. All the businesses were closed, and aside from some residents wandering through the streets to examine the weather, it was nicely quiet and deserted.

After getting some pictures of the frozen, snow covered rides at Funland, he took a short beach walk, seeing frozen sheets of ice shifting on top of the low tide. After tossing a few slush balls in the ocean, Ronaldo got back onto the main road, admiring how everything remained near untouched. A car had evidently passed down the street earlier, the tire tracks getting covered by the falling snow, leaving faded lines.

God, could this weather get any more beautiful?

Ronaldo gave a friendly wave to Steven and his little friend Connie as they passed by with a sled, and he thought back to when he was a kid, and he would be eager to grab his own sled and take turns with Lars going down Brooding Hill.

Thinking of Lars, Ronaldo noticed he wasn't too far from his friend's street, and figured that since the Big Donut was closed, he'd either be out with one of his other friends and enjoying the weather, or at home, preparing for any unlucky passersby to get a face full of snow.

Brushing a few snowflakes off his glasses, Ronaldo headed down Waterman Street, and walked up towards Lars' house. As he got closer, he could hear the sound of a shovel getting dragged across the icy ground, and saw Lars grumpily stomping across his yard and onto the driveway, frustration evident as he plowed the shovel through the snowbank, and flinging it carelessly behind him.

Ronaldo yelped as he got a face full of snow, and nearly fell back onto his butt, "Hey!", he called out.

Lars whirled around, and saw his friend decked out head to toe in winter clothes, and huffed, "Didn't see you there."

"Evidently," Ronaldo rolled his eyes, cleaning off his glasses, "Whatcha doin' there?", he smiled smugly.

Lars made a face, "Thought I was gonna get to sleep in today, but nooooo, 'Why don't you do your old man a favor and shovel the walk, sport? Build up those muscles! Get some fresh air!' Ugh! Whatever!", he spat, muttering curses under his breath as he continued hauling piles of snow off the ground, "I fuckin' hate this weather," he stated.

"Really?", Ronaldo raised an eyebrow, "I love it."

"Of course you would," Lars huffed, and nearly slipped, yelping as his legs flew about every which way for at least nine seconds before he managed to steady himself, almost throwing the shovel in rage, "Too much snow, too fuckin' cold-"

"Well of course you'd be cold, you're not even wearing a hat!", Ronaldo pointed out, seeing his friend was only wearing a lightweight red jacket, "Don't you have any winter clothes?"

"I'm not going to look like a nerd just to shovel my walk!"

"Oh my god, you're really that determined," Ronaldo huffed, "I saw Buck Dewey wearing clown-pants worthy snow trousers on my way here, you're not under any social pressure, Lars."

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