It was the fourth ring and Stan still hadn't answered his Goddammed phone. It was pissing Kyle off. The proper thing to do when you tell someone to call you later is to answer the fucking phone when they do. Sixth ring now and Kyle's free hand balled into a fist. If Stan didn't have a good excuse for not answering and made him leave message, Kyle would beat the shit out-

"Kyle? Hello?" Stan's voice was distorted by static, like he had bad coverage and was standing in the middle of a blizzard.

"You didn't answer your phone." Kyle hissed, but his temper was already simmering down.

Stan grunted and a loud "TWANG" could be heard from his end before he answered. "Yes I did, dude. We're talking right now."

Kyle frowned and idly flipped through his book, jotting down in red pen things he needed to fix. "Yes, but you took six and a half rings to answer. I thought we had a three ring rule." Stan's laboured breathing and the sounds of metal-on-metal was barely a thing to worry about. Stan had a history of getting excited when playing video games, after all. The fact that static was interminably drowning out all other sound was.

"Well, excuuuse me pr-"

"What the hell are you doing, Stan?" Kyle wasn't in the mood for Stan's comments, it would lead to a stupid conversation that Kyle didn't care to have. It always did.

A sickening "SLUNCK" sounded, followed by Stan shouting "VICTORY". He panted for a second before answering, but even his tone gave evidence of his exhilaration. "Oh, you know, the usual."

"God of War, again?" God, Kyle hated that game. When Stan first got it he'd been ignored for nearly a week. The game even stole Stan away from the "Save The Animals" speech he was going to make in Washington at some stupid Rally.

"Huh?" Stan's voice was laced with genuine confusion. As if he'd never heard of the game before. "No, no. I'm saving the Polar Bears. In Alaska."

That certainly made more sense now. With the way Stan had rushed off right after work and his phone had been off for so long. "Why the fuck did you go to Alaska?" Kyle's anger started to bubble up again. "We have PLANS tomorrow, or did you forget, Rambo?"

There was a long pause, indicating that Stan had indeed forgotten. "Shit." THUMP. "Sorry man! I'll get back in time for dinner at your folks." He mumbled something that was lost to the wind. "I'll just fly straight into Denver and rent a car."

Kyle huffed and threw his book at the wall. It hit hard, puncturing the painted drywall, leaving a sizable hole. That just pissed him off further. "You only have ten hours to get there." His eyes were still fixed on the wall. "And there is a damn hole in the wall."

Stan sighed in aspiration. "Okay, fine, I'll leave now. The plane should be refueled by now. I'll come by the house, fix the hole, and then we can drive, okay?"

"That sounds good." Kyle's rage was replaced my self-satisfaction. "You're not busy then?"

"Nope, just finishing up, actually."

"Good. See you soon."

"Love you."

Kyle frowned. "Yeah, whatever, ditto."

He hung up before hearing if Stan had anything else to say and reclined back.

Now all he had to do is sit through dinner with his family without blowing up. But, he was a level-headed guy. He could do it.

Stan snapped his phone shut and rubbed it between his gloved hands, trying to keep it from freezing. After a moment, he shoved it in his pocket and looked down at his feet.

A hand was still gripping his ankle tight, and the blood had splattered out from the body quite nicely.

Kicking the body of the man away, Stan turned and started towards his snowmobile.

At least he'd saved a Polar Bear. It made the trip not a complete waste.