"Just passin' through," Elvis says, shrugging. "S'nice, though. Weird to think about how soon all this'll be packed." He isn't looking forward to that and can't pretend otherwise, but at least it's not all that Christmas shit. In a way, he gets it, he does, knows what it means to most people. It's just one thing where he can't see past his own issues with the subject. To him, Christmas is tied to death in the one way it's too unpleasant for him to think too much about. "Probably sit out whatever they do for New Year's. It kinda seems like something always goes wrong, doesn't it?"