A man sits in a pub alone, eavesdropping on a nearby group of extreme fellows. As the guys yell, exhort and brag about sick lines of champagne powder, ski-parachuting over huge cliffs and ice-climbing gnarly routes, their irked neighbor sketches their stories in his notebook. But in his versions, the men meet strange and moribund endings. Here’s a hint: polar bears, vicious crows, menacing insects and alien spaceships.
—Katie Klingsporn