A foolhardy adventure? Maybe.
A needlessly dangerous excursion? Possibly.
The fever dream of a New York City office bro? Probably?
The last chance for a set of hopeless romantics to prove their self-worth in a most irrational way? Most assuredly.
It may have been all of these things or none of them, but what is certain is that our decision to spend a spring traveling with the Yeti during their annual migration from their winter home in the tunnels of the Moscow Metro (Arbatsko-Pokrovskaya Line) to the Finnish Laplands was one that would forever shape goodr.
The success of the whole trip was dependent upon whether or not we could convincingly perform the ceremonial preparation and presentation of the yeti-Brännvin, the famous and traditional alcoholic drink of the Yetis. Up to that point, all who had tried to perform the yeti-Brännvin ceremony had failed and had been sent away in humiliation as the Yetis guffawed at their fumbling attempts.
But through nefarious means of which we are not proud, we had acquired a secret that had been all but lost to history; a secret that would allow us to accurately perform the yeti-Brännvin ceremony.