Rick’s divorce had exposed both his lack of furniture and friendships. So with Christmas approaching, he decided to order a couch and track down his former mates.
A silly-season drink in his new digs would be just the tonic. He found them easily enough on Facebook. But bloody hell, what had happened to them?
Scrolling their feeds was like visiting an alternate universe. Scotty, dear ol’ Scotty, was now barking mad; Baz was a loon; Muzza certifiable; Dingo ominously moronic.
Suddenly, toasting Christmas solo held greater appeal. Especially if the couch arrived in time.