A Hunting Cabin, Deep in the Mountains of Glacia, Morning

"I'm dead," Karla sulked from where she was draped dramatically over a table. "Saddest, deaddest Karla ever." There were four slashes in the bottom right of her sweater and even now the yarn was unraveling. "Cold and sad and dead."

And the worst of all?

"Poor, coffeeless Karla."

[NFB]