Jack Frost should have known better. It was all too good to be true. But then, how could he have known? Should he have suspected something when a seemingly naïve first-time user on a buy-and-sell website posted that he was selling some very valuable baseball cards for an unbelievably cheap price? Well, he did talk to the seller to find out what he could. The user was a teenage boy from a nearby city. His story was that he had recently moved into that neighborhood and found a collection of baseball cards hidden under a loose floorboard.

"Must've belonged to the previous owner," the teen told him via chat.

"Do you know the players on the cards?" Jack had asked, trying not to let on that the cards were more valuable than the ad page had listed.

"Nope," the teen had replied. "I just assumed that there's got to be some people who collect baseball cards. To be honest, I just need a bit of cash to buy a ticket to this music festival my friends and I want to go to. It's supposed to be the biggest thing."

"So, just to clarify," Jack continued, clearly uninterested in the topic of music festivals popping up in every town. "You're selling the entire bunch of cards for the price listed on your ad?"

"Yup," the seller had assured him. "Why? You think it could be worth more?"

"I have no idea, actually," Jack had lied. He was thankful that they were only chatting online, so he was sure he wouldn't be giving any clues that he thought otherwise. "I just thought my uncle might appreciate them for his birthday. He said he used to be a big baseball player back in his day, so I just want to get him a few, but I also have a limited budget. Your price fits my budget."

They had made the deal for the seller to send the cards via carrier mail, provided that Jack paid for shipping fees. All in all, Jack shelled out about a third of what he believed the cards could be worth. He later posted an ad, asking for six times the amount he paid. A potential buyer contacted him and attempted to haggle for the price. They settled on an amount that was four times what Jack had initially spent. Jack was still pleased. Unlike the initial transaction Jack had made, this buyer seemed reluctant to wire money. He said that he had previous experiences with sellers running away with his deposit and never giving the product. He asked Jack if there was any convenient place for them to meet and suggested an area. Jack happily discovered that it was near a new gastropub that had opened. He figured he could ask Merida to try the pub with him and spend some of the money he'd earn from selling the baseball cards to pay for his drinks. Perfect way to conveniently kill two birds with one stone.

Still, he should have known better. He should have suspected something when the buyer suggested the specific street. He should have been a little wary when, on his way there, he had passed only two people. He should have been a little more cautious when he noticed the solitary gentleman waving at him from the agreed meeting spot. There were no other people in sight. The only thing he noticed aside from the man was a car parked beside him. Still, he decided to just get it over with and then quickly text Merida to change their meeting spot. He had told her earlier to meet him at that spot as well.

The exchange occurred quickly. The man handed him an envelope containing the promised payment. Jack had handed over the pack of cards. The man grinned and asked him to count the money to make sure it was accurate. Jack counted and confirmed. Suddenly, the man smiled viciously and commented that Jack was lucky to have struck such a lucky deal, that he only paid the amount of a music festival ticket. Jack's mind quickly noted that he never told the man how he had acquired the baseball cards. Jack immediately became aware of how careless he had been. He finally put two and two together – it was all a con. Just then, two men emerged from the heavily tinted card. The man holding the cards walked towards his car and advised Jack not to fight and just to hand over the money in the envelope. The men moved to remove the envelope from Jack's grasp, but he adamantly held on. Things quickly turned violent as the men grew impatient and attempted to beat up the rebellious teen. Luckily for Jack, his years of martial arts training have finally come to practical use.

Now, as he skillfully dodges punches and kicks and simultaneously throws his own, he once again thinks to himself, I should have known better. It's one thing to defend himself against an opponent in a formal competition; it's still another to go against two equally skilled fighters in the street. Still, Jack can hold his own in a fight. Just when he thinks he might have chance at escaping this scrape with his life (and the money), he hears a voice that makes his blood turn cold.

"Jack!" Merida shouts as turns the corner and sees him in his dangerous situation.

The moment's distraction and concern for his friend's safety causes Jack to lose focus and to allow one man to luckily land a punch on Jack's stomach. He lets go of the envelope he had been firmly clinging to during the fight and doubles down on the ground. The men quickly pick up the envelope, get into the car, and drive off.

Merida runs to help Jack up. "Oh my god!" she exclaims, still unsure of what she had just encountered. "What the hell happened, Jack? I need to bring you to the hospital or to the police or anywhere safe!"

"Relax, Merida," Jack wheezes through the pain. "No need to alert the cops or the medics. I've been in worse scrapes. I don't think going to the police now will be of much use. They're probably long gone. Besides, none of this would have happened if I wasn't blinded by greed. I should've been more careful. Chalk this one up to experience, so hopefully I won't make the same mistake for my next get-rich-quick plan."

"I can't believe you," Merida chastises him as she continues to help prop him up. "You said you had this under control. This is the worst thing that's happened since you charged tickets at school to get people to watch you parkour up three stories."

"Really? I thought the broken arm and rib was worse than this punch in the gut. Although, missing a week of school and then having girls sign my cast after was pretty sweet. And I got to keep the money from the tickets I sold. You know what? You're right. This is worse. I didn't get any money this time."

"You're crazy, you know that?"

"Jeez, Red," Jack says, a little irritated. "I don't need a sermon right now. I got punched and robbed. I learned my lesson. You know what I need?"

"Let me guess," Merida pouts in disapproval. "A drink?"

"And that right there is why we're friends," Jack puts his arm around her shoulder and squeezes it before veering her in the direction of the gastropub.

"You know, sometimes I'm afraid I'm the one with the bad judgment and that my friends are right."

"Hey, don't be like that," Jack tells her. "I'm the only one hurt here, and not badly, I might add. If anything, I got conned out of a few bucks and got punched once. Things could have been much worse. But I will acknowledge that I should be more careful next time. So given all the rather shitty things that happened, I'd rather just focus on spending time with a friend, getting drunk on good booze."

"All right," Merida says. "I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you. One day, these schemes might turn into something more dangerous, and you could get yourself seriously hurt."

"I know, Scotts, I know," Jack says, patting her on the head. "I know you're just looking out for me. Don't worry. I think I'm done with schemes for now. I'll just have to be content with my current vices – martial arts and alcohol."

"That's better," Merida laughs. "Let's just drink and forget our troubles!"

"Cheers to that plan!" Jack agrees. Suddenly, he remembers that the cash he was supposed to use to pay for his drinks was taken from him. Merida notices the change in his demeanor.

"What's wrong?" she asks him. "You look like a guy who was just conned out of his money and punched in the stomach."

"Ha ha, very funny," Jack narrows his eyes at her. Merida can't help but shoot him a toothy grin. "I don't have any money. I was supposed to use the earnings to pay for tonight. You think you can spot me?"

"Ugh, how is it that your mistake makes me feel robbed, as well?" Merida groans.

"Please, Mer!" Jack pleads. "This is partly your fault, you know."

"Excuse me!" she exclaims. "How is any of this my fault?"

"Well," Jack starts. "I was doing fine defending myself from the two guys. I bet I could've won and gotten away with the money. It's not like the conmen were expecting a kid who could fight back. It wasn't until I heard you call me that I got distracted, and one of them was able to hit me."

"Oh, so it's my fault you got into this mess?" Merida asks incredulously.

"I'm just kidding," Jack says. "I just want you to feel bad enough to pay for my drinks tonight. I promise to pay you back." Jack looks at her with puppy dog eyes.

"Oh, all right," Merida gives in. "I do feel sorry for you, anyway."

"You're the best! I promise, it'll be my treat next time!"

They finally reach the pub, and they are seated at a corner booth. They each order a pint of their desired beer and some food to go with their drinks. As the waiter leaves them, Merida tells Jack that she's quite happy that he found out about this place. So far, this is the only place that serves the beer she has been dying to try. Jack nods and notes that it's so much better to have someone to share a few drinks and split the bill with.

"You're one to talk" Merida says. "I'm paying, remember?"

"Yeah, but we usually split the bill, so we can order more drinks. I'm sure this would be even better if we had one or two more people with us. Can you imagine doing this with any of your straight-laced friends?"

"Hey, they're not that bad. I mean, I wouldn't tell Eugene or Hiccup about any of this for your sake, but Rapunzel actually knows about our arrangement."

"What?!" It's Jack's turn to ask incredulously. "Little Miss Perfect knows that her best friend is a secret boozer who hangs with the school bad boy at night-"

"Self proclaimed bad boy," Merida corrects him.

"-and she's okay with that?" Jack continues, ignoring Merida's snide remark.

"She not okay-okay with it, but she knows that she can't talk me out of doing what I like." Merida pauses before adding, "It's funny, though."

"What is?" Jack asks.

"You'd think she'd hate you, now that you and I share this hobby. You'd think she'd think you're just enabling a bad habit. What's weird is that she was a little relieved to know that I found a drinking buddy. Like, she's relieved someone's there to keep me company. She knows I'd probably go alone if I never met you."

"So, she likes me?" Jack asks, even more incredulously.

"I wouldn't go that far," Merida answers. "She doesn't not like you. Actually, she's still wary of you. All she knows is that I don't get drunk as often anymore, and that there's no funny business between us, even when we're both drunk. Because of those little things, she kinda trusts you."

"Huh," Jack ponders. "Never thought someone like her would be so accepting."

"She's not as uptight as you think," Merida defends her best friend. "Don't you know her at all? You guys live next to each other."

"Yeah, but we never talk," Jack shrugs. "I mean, I can see into her bedroom from mine, but it's not like we've ever hung out."

"Pervert," Merida punches him on the shoulder, causing Jack to laugh which, in turn, causes Merida to do the same.