You may remember me from the ice storm of 1998, when I transported a rented generator from unaffected Toronto to my parents' place in hard-hit Kingston. I've never been in a war zone, but darkened K-Town sure looked like one as my ancient, tank-like Volvo swerved to avoid innumerable fallen tree branches and power lines.
Based on the forecast that’s been terrifying Ontarians all week, it looks like we will meet again very soon. But I sincerely hope we don’t, mainly because you seem like a total dick.
Why can’t you be more like your brother Nigel, God of Snow? That usually awesome dude just helped me out big-time in Fernie and Whistler. I’m not Nigel’s biggest fan when I’m stuck in an airport or driving at night, but unlike you I think he means well.
Just face it: Nobody likes you! The only exception might be the photographers who capture the icy splendour of your evil powers. But even then you come across like a jerk by forcing them to scrape off their windshields, and then making them slip and fall on their driveways.
So let’s make a deal: We puny mortals will stop taking your name in vain if you agree to unleash your powers on weekdays only. A few ice-storm days would make up for the lack of legitimate snow days this winter, and might even earn you a few worshipers.
So just hold off till Monday, OK? I’ve got a morning meeting I’d love you to freezing-rain on.