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A red, 1969 Firebird sat under a large tree, both tree and car covered by many layers of pure, white, thick snow. The firebird’s engine had died out about five minutes ago. Two men stood on the right side of the car, the dark haired of the two wearing a black cowboy hat on his head and the blond one wearing a beige cowboy hat.
"How you holding up, Long?" Mikhail asked, wearing a brown leather jacket.
“I’m cold, Mikhail,” Fei Long carped, even though he wore his best mink coat.
“Well damn, Long, I can’t control the weather!” Mikhail retaliated, shrugging, holding his hands up as if under arrest.