It doesn't matter how hard you believe. Sometimes, that boy can be a right douche!
"The cold remained all day, with the coldest places in existance being rail station platforms. They can rival even the the Arctic rim with their bitter chill.
The coldest platform known to man has to be Peterborough. Even in the middle of summer that place would keep a penguin happy. Something about it's North-South orientation, it's open platforms and desolate location, forced the temperatures down. Worse, this is the England Peterborough, not the Canadian equivalent. Canada being cold was understandable, but being English meant that Peterborough was not only cold; more often than not it was wet also.
The train had pulled in seven minutes early, so the guard had to wait, stood in the cold, for the platform staff to give the go-ahead. She willed them to begin the dispatch. The heater in the rear cab had broken, so no respite could be provided on the train. Shivering, she observed the icy chav sat upon the station sign.
'A...a...again dude, *@~? y...y...you!' she said, teeth chattering.
The boy just smiled. 'Hee! I live here now!' he crowed.
Peterborough platform would only feel colder from that day onwards."
The Guardians of Childhood (c) William Joyce
Pippin is the fursona of me, Heliotrope Housecat.