After 25 years in the liquor business, Tom had had enough of the hustle. So he packed up, bought 50 acres of land in remote Alaska, and disappeared into peace and quiet.

No traffic. No meetings. Just the postman once a week and a grocery run once a month. Bliss.

Six months into his solitude, there’s a knock on the door. Tom opens it to find a giant of a man with a beard that could host its own wildlife.

“Name’s Lars,” the man says. “I live about 40 miles up the road. Having a Christmas party Friday night. Thought you might want to come by. Starts around 5.”

Tom lights up. “Absolutely! I haven’t seen a soul in half a year. Count me in.”

Lars turns to leave, then pauses. “Just so you know… there’ll be some drinking.”

Tom grins. “Buddy, I was in the liquor game for two decades. I can handle a little cheer.”

Lars nods, then adds, “Might be some fighting too.”

Tom shrugs. “I get along with folks. I’ll be fine.”

Lars starts walking again, then stops one last time. “And… maybe a little wild fun.”

Tom laughs. “After six months alone? Sounds like a party! What should I wear?”

Lars smirks. “Doesn’t much matter… it’s just gonna be the two of us.”