How was she supposed to know you were so good at beer pong? She never would’ve mad that bet if she was aware of how coordinated you could be after way too many beers.

But, here she was, decked out from head-to-toe in white and red. Luckily, you had let her skip out on the beard. Thank god you had some mercy on her.

After you had made a stupid Santa-vika remark, it had stuck, and now she felt like the laughing stock of the entire bar, which, to be fair, she was.