[The thing about skis is that they're really only designed to go in one direction, and specifically not the direction Sigmund took off in. He tries his best with the poles he somehow managed to hang onto, but it's not long before he, too, loses his footing and crashes down the slope after Brooke, half on his butt, half on his side.
After what feels like a million years, he rolls-slash-crumples to a halt not too far from where Brooke ended up, just with a great deal less smiling and a lot more groaning. Some people aren't as young as they used to be, okay. Or as young as they tend to think they are.] Ughhh. I think I saw God. He was laughing
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After what feels like a million years, he rolls-slash-crumples to a halt not too far from where Brooke ended up, just with a great deal less smiling and a lot more groaning. Some people aren't as young as they used to be, okay. Or as young as they tend to think they are.] Ughhh. I think I saw God. He was laughing