If the cold were a man, I would kill him.

And I mean good too. I'd get my hands on him. Real personal-like. Wrap my hands around his throat. And I don't mean choke. Throttle. Look him right in the eyes. Throttle. Watch his tongue slide out and see the panic in his eyes. You know the kind. Like when you're underwater and you feel like you can't get to the surface fast enough. Feel his strength fade. I hate the cold. Give another good squeeze before I let go. The cold is a real jerk.