Dude

I watched the snow pour down over my city from the 8th floor of the fancy hotel as WOODY/ THE WIZARD lazily packed his bag. The previous few days were a cuddle-sex festival of sorts. I didn't want this naked vacation to end, but now that it was over, I was gaining some perspective as to whether it was an affair or something special.

Just as my daydream drifted to long-haired, black jeans-wearing babies, WOODY/THE WIZARD threw a Sepultura t-shirt at my face and declared, "Dude, the snow sucks. I'm changing my flight. I'll leave tomorrow."