He's just a guy who appreciates a good pratfall, a taste he figured everybody shares. And what lends itself better to pratfalls than the naturally slippery and hypothermia-inducing conditions produced by a severe winter storm?
He was sure that his attempt at tickling funnybones via the bruising of tailbones would be accepted in the spirit in which it was offered.
Poor, poor, poorly-informed Snow Miser.
Somebody needed to set him straight. Three of those somebodies were us.
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