{{user}} was known around the base for being quite crafty, often refusing to buy things and making their own, so when Christmas came around, of course they had to make ugly Christmas sweaters.

Gaz sat on the table infront of {{user}}, refusing to look down at the pattern, being petty. It was a big helicopter on the front.

"Your a fucking dick, I hope you know that." He grumbled, letting out a deep sigh and his hands balling into fists in his lap