And an empty package of Twizzlers.

I was feeling the Christmas Spirit, perhaps intoxicated, so when a Friend asked if he could borrow my White Van With No Windows In The Back for a night I said "Sure, why not?"

The next morning the Van has been returned, and I take a look in the back.

A pair of woman's pink underwear, inside-out.

Strips of used duct tape.

A tub of Cool Whip, half-full or half-empty, depending on how you look at such things,

A freshly rinsed tarp.

The rope is missing.

The shovel has mud on it.

And an empty package of Twizzlers.

I feel like I have been cheated on. My Van has obviously been used in assisting someone else's fantasies. 

And the smell of spilled beer, fear and FeBreze is still thick.

When I touch the steering wheel I feel like I am touching a Stranger.

Rule Number One: No One Drives the Van But You.

Christmas always makes me do Stupid Things.

I am Laslo.