“Do you maybe want to open the present I got for you, Karl?”
Karl-Anthony Towns stared dourly at the carefully-wrapped gift that a widely grinning Ricky Rubio held in his hands. He considered his words carefully before responding.
“Before we get too hasty with the gift unwrapping, I need to just make sure of one thing.” Karl responded as he walked towards a window, which was covered with a curtain. He put his hand on his chin, feigned deep thought, then dramatically wrenched the curtain apart, revealing the gray Minneapolis morning.
“You see what I see, Ricky?” he shouted as he gestured towards the newly revealed landscape. “Or, more accurately, what I don’t see? That’s right! There’s no snow! THERE’S NO FRICKIN’ SNOW, RICKY! And without snow, we can have no presents!”
Karl walked away from the window, back to the couch where Ricky was sitting, still smiling, still holding the red-wrapped and silver-bowed gift. No sooner had he returned to his sitting position than he flung himself onto the floor, and began, once again, to throw a tantrum.
“Why is there no snow? How can we have Christmas cheer without frozen precipitation coating all outdoor surfaces? Why has god forsaken me, ruined my every winter activity, and cruelly withheld my deserved yuletide majesty? There are no answers, Ricky, because there is no god. Or, if there is, he has surely abandoned us to torment,” he intoned calmly, a stark contrast to his wildly flailing limbs.
Ricky’s smile faltered the tiniest bit.