"Crackers!" Michael holds up his; red and green crepe paper wrapped with silver foil. He leans across the table, arm outstretched, flashing eyebrows. "Pull a cracker with me, Mitch."
James picks up his from the side of his plate, sounding piqued. "They're nothing like the one we had last year, I'm afraid."
Michael shrugs, unperturbed. "So there was no time to arrange your fancy hand-made affairs. They're just the first packet I could grab off the supermarket shelves. It's anyone's guess what's inside. It doesn't matter. It's Christmas. That's what it's about."
"Oh, stop fussing, James." Mitch makes a grab for the cracker. "So long as they have a paper hat inside and a bad joke, they'll be fine." She tugs, and with a Snap! the cracker splits and multi-coloured shrapnel confetti's out.
