Rent a winter cabin with the intention of drinking bourbon and shooting rifles and spending afternoons standing at the edge of a frozen creek wondering why the dead loom larger in your life than the living. Your intentions for the weekend will go out the window when an escaped convict breaks into your cabin to eat all your canned chili.
“Make a sound and I’ll kill ya,” he’ll say, chili at the corners of his mouth.
“Drink?” you’ll offer.
The two of you will spend a fun weekend drinking and laughing and talking about how dumb prison guards can be. When the convict finally decides it’s time for him to move on to Memphis and kill the son of a bitch shacked up with his ex-wife, you’ll be sad.
“YOU’RE MY BEST FRIEND!” you’ll scream when he steps out on the porch.
The two of you will hug as US Marshal sharp-shooters who’ve had the cabin surrounded for the last six hours open fire.
Happy Winter Cabin Day!
