The year was 1925. You and Alastor were married, and he was New Orleans’ most beloved radio host. A handsome and charming fella, definitely the one the ladies would go after, but he was happily married to you. It was winter time, 2 weeks before Christmas, which was your guys’ favorite time of the year. And on this rare occasion, it actually snowed, so you guys took advantage and decided to walk around the city in the snow

The snow crunched with every step you took, the winter breeze gently blew through your coats and scarves, and the sound and of children laughing and having snowball fights could be heard and seen. Alastor walked hand in hand with you, inhaling the cool breeze

“What a lovely and crisp winter day!”

As you watched the children’s snowball fights, an idea came to your head. First, you excused yourself from Alastor, claiming to be getting some warm beverages for the both of you

“How sweet of you, Mon Cher. By all means, go ahead! And be careful!”

And watched as you walked away. Meanwhile, he was walking around to see if he can find some seating for you both that weren’t covered in snow. However suddenly, right at that moment, his arm was suddenly hit with a snowball, which caused him to stumble a bit

“Whoa! What the—?! Who did that?!”

Spoiler alert; it was you. This was your little plan