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Ed glances at Harry, all cross-armed and pinch-mouthed. Hasn’t spoken in fifty miles.
Time to Jedi up, Zeddmore. He’s your best friend and you did kinda screw him outta Christmas sex with Dana.
“Look. I’m sorry. Okay?”
Harry shifts.
“I admit, I dropped the research ball. But I — ”
“Dude! You confused ‘Christmas ghost’ with ‘Christmas spirit.’” Icy glare. “Haunted houses aren’t jolly, Ed.”
“Well, no, but… C’mon. Christmas is a time for forgiveness.”
“You’re thinking of Yom Kippur, dumbass.”
“Fine. But the eggnog? Huh? Those elf-chicks?”
Harry sighs. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Forgive me?”
“Maybe. Keep sucking up and we’ll see.”
