BUDAPEST

“Tom, has it been snowin?”

“Not quite, Eric?”

“First day of Winter brings the first snow of the season. Result!”

“It’s not snowing, Eric.”

“I must ‘ave slept through it.”

“You were passed out, Eric. There’s a difference.”

“Was I? That bleedin’ Jägermeister is strong stuff, innit.”

“You’re not supposed to drink the whole bottle all at once, Eric.”

“Yeah, well, I got a taste for it in Budapest at the dentist’s office, didn’t I. They give you shots of it while you’re waiting to see the tooth puller.”

“Instead of anaesthetic?”

“Nah, they give you that too!”

“In the waiting room?”

“In the waiting room, in the chair.”

“Jägermeister?”

“Don’t half warm you up. Could do with some, now. It’s bloody freezin’ in ‘ere.”

“That’s coz we’ve been buried, Eric.”

“…How’d that happen?”

“Because you rented a chalet right in the path of the biggest snow shelf that fell down on us last night.”

“Really? Never ‘eard a thing!”

“That’s coz you were passed out.”

“Sleeping, Tom. There’s a difference.”

“Well, you were dead weight, mate. And I couldn’t lift you.”

“Got freshly baked bread, as well.”

“What!?”

“At the dentist in Budapest. The dentist’s mum used to bake bread every day and bring them in to the surgery, and the receptionists would give out loaves to everyone waiting. Probably to soak up the Jägermeister, I reckon.”

“Wait… Why were you in Budapest, again?”

“I needed crowns and bridges, and it was sixty percent cheaper than getting them in England.”

“Haven’t you heard the saying, you get what you pay for?”

“They were all US-schooled, Tom. Top of their class. Never felt a thing – apart from the first needle that went straight into a nerve and made me face blow up like a balloon. They had to wait for the swelling to go down, before continuing. Ploughed me with Jägermeister while I waited. It’s like drinking mouthwash, that stuff.”

“So, why drink it?”

“Coz, it warms me up on a cold night. Also, reduces pain.”

“Well, there’s only a trickle left in the bottle, so you must not be feeling a thing.”

“Tell that to my headache. You been outside, yet?”

“Have I what!? No.”

“Why is it still dark out?”

“That would be because half a mountain of snow is covering the chalet, Eric.”

“How long’s it been snowin?”

“Once again, Eric. It’s not snowing. We’re trapped inside an avalanche.”

“Right. That must be why the radio was goin’ mental last night. I thought I was dreaming of that high-pitched siren.”

“That’s because the radio was warning us of a potential avalanche. Has that mouthwash fogged your brain?”

“Where was I, when all this was happening?”

“Unconscious. Look, there are more serious issues to be dealing with right now – other than your waking state of Jägermeister confusion.”

“Like what?”

“Like, how we are going to get out of here.”

“We could dig our way out. Where’s the snow shovels?”

“Outside the door.”

“So, let’s get ‘em.”

“There’s a thick blanket of snow blocking the doorway. At least one broom handle deep.”

“Oh, so that’s why there’s a broom brush pushing against the door window.”

“It got stuck and we’re trapped, Eric.”

“Then, we should go up, Tom. Get a better view of things.”

“There is no up, Eric. This is a bungalow.”

“Oh. You know what, Tom? I think we’re..”

“..Trapped, Eric.”

“My conclusion, too… I know. What if we lit the gas heater and melted the snow.”

“The snow is on the outside, Eric.”

“Oh yeah. How come you’re being so calm about this, Tom? You’re normally bollockin’ me at this point in crisis.”

“There’s no point.”

“Whyssat?”

“Coz, you’re a fucking idiot and nothing I say will register with you.”

“Why is it my fault?”

“Coz, you rented this icy tomb.”

“Then, why didn’t you leg it down the hill to safety, when the siren sounded?”

“Foolish sense of loyalty, Eric. I didn’t want to leave you on your own.”

“Well, this puts a damper on our ski trip, dunnit.”

“You know, I knew not to come here. Let’s go skiing, you said. We can get pissed on the piste, you said. Never mind that we’ve never been skiing before.

There’ll be bunnies on the Bunny Run, you said. They’ll be only too happy to assist.

We’ll pull easily. I’ve got us a bargain on the chalet. A bit out of the way, but a bargain, all the same.

So, where’s all the bunnies now, Eric?”

“Probably down at the ski lodge in town.”

“You just had to go cheap, didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t cheap. Anyways, I didn’t hear you complaining about the price, mate.”

“No. Probably because I was too busy staring up in trepidation at that huge ice shelf above us.”

“I must ‘ave been six sheets to the wind, Tom. Could’ve been an earthquake last night and I wouldn’t ‘ave woken up.”

“There was an earthquake, Eric. Or at least that’s what it felt like.”

“There was? What happened?”

“We got buried by an avalanche! Didn’t you read the warning label on the door?”

“What label?”

“The one that says H.R. Cabin.”

“What, for High Rollers?”

“H.R, you pillock, stands for High Risk! It’s a Ski-In-Ski-Out chalet, meaning it’s on the slope with the potential of burial during an avalanche.”

“Well, I thought it’d be easier to get down the hill, grab a chair lift to the top, then ski right back into our living room – Jägermeister awaiting, bunnies on arms.”

“We need a plan to get out of here.”

“Did you try calling emergency services?”

“No mobile signal.”

“What about the courtesy phone?”

“The line’s dead.”

“What about that big skylight right above us.”

“What about it?”

“We could open it and escape through it.”

“There’s a ton of snow on top of it, Eric.”

“Then, Tom. Let’s just wait until we’re rescued.”

“We don’t have that many supplies – apart from some bottled water.”

“But I ordered a grocery delivery online for today.”

“You’d better go outside and greet them, then, Eric.”

“…Oh.”

“Pillock!”

“We still have a gas supply, yes?”

“We do.”

“Then, put the kettle on, Tom! There’s a few chocolate digestives in my backpack and some butter and a loaf of bread in the fridge. We can hold out for a while.”

“Did you bring tea bags?”

“In the bottom of my backpack.”

“I found them. There’s a Swiss Roll in here, as well.”

“Yeah, forgot about that. I brought it to eat as a symbolic gesture of being in the Alps.”

“We’re in France, Eric.”

“Yeah, but not that far from the Yodellers.”

“We’re closer to Italy than Switzerland.”

“Well, you’ll see that I brought pasta as another symbolic gesture.”

“Symbolic gesture? So, what happens when you go to somewhere like India?”

“I’ve not been to India. But if I did, then I’d bring toilet paper, coz it’s a shithole.”

“Well, at least here we can stock up on carbs, then. What’s the humbugs for?”

“To eat, mate. I love sucking on a humbug. Try not to bite down on one, though. That’s what led me to Budapest… Kettle’s boiled.”

“They’ll know we’re trapped in here, won’t they?”

“Avalanche beacons, Tom. There’s one for each of us on the kitchen counter. Here, let me turn them on. There, I reckon we’ve just lit up someone’s switchboard, somewhere.”

“How much air do you think is left in here?”

“I dunno. When did we get covered?”

“Around 2:00AM.”

“Well, it’s what, 7:15 now? We still appear to be breathing.”

“All the same, Eric. We should keep chitchat to a minimum. Save our breath.”

“Here, have a humbug. More sucking, less talking. Innit funny how we always seem to get trapped somewhere together. First, it was that bank vault, then that walk-in cooler at the meat factory with those guard dogs. We’ve certainly had a few misadventures together, ‘aven’t we.”

“All caused by your stupidity and bad planning.”

“Miscalculations, Tom. There’s a difference.”

“Like the difference between sleeping and unconscious?”

“They’re the same, aren’t they?”

“Six P’s, Eric.”

“Whassat, then?”

“Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance.”

“I did my prior planning on those jobs.”

“Your prior planning is like looking up at the sky and guessing if it will rain.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Because, it’s already raining.”

“Have I ever been wrong…?”

“The question should be, have you ever been right?”

“Getting this chalet was good planning.”

“Yeah, but this is the first time we’re not doing something illegal.”

“About that. I never really paid for this place. I reversed the PayPal payment, last night. We were only going to be here for three days, so I thought we’d be in and out before anyone knew. I mean, who’s going to climb a mountain to collect the rent?”

“Shush, Eric! What’s that tapping noise?”

“It’s coming from the roof.”

“They’ve found us, Eric!”

“WE’RE IN HERE…! HELLO?”

“The skylight, Eric! I can see a red pole tapping on the glass.”

“Wait! I’ll open it for you!”

“Eric, stop! You can’t open the skylight.”

“It’s alright, Tom. It opens inwards… Whoa! Tom! Tom! In here, mate! He’s just been buried by a ton of snow. Tom! Tom! The rescuers are here, Tom! If you can hear me, try holding your breath by cupping your hands over your mouth. Help me dig him out, mate. Tom! Tom!”

“…Eric.”

“Tom! Thank goodness you’re okay.”

“The snow made me bite down on the humbug and I think I’ve broken a tooth.”

“It’s okay, Tom. You’re alive. That’s all that matters. What can I do for you?”

“…Get me the rest of that Jägermeister and tell me more about Budapest…”

Author's Note:

This is the fifth installment of these two hapless characters.

For those new to them, the other stories are as follows in order of creation.

"MAY DAY" https://blog.reedsy.com/short-story/t9xlck/

"EARLY RELEASE" https://blog.reedsy.com/short-story/ul5omg/

"MICHELIN START-UP" https://blog.reedsy.com/short-story/24cws4/

"SWEET AND SOUR" https://blog.reedsy.com/short-story/wbwa69/