Polar opposites, heat and cold, contained in breaths which intermingled with the hot one wrapped and compacted and ultimately dispersed into the chiller which sought it's distribution and his, Iceland's, fingers grew number and number as time went on and the heat stored in his gut emptied and was filtered away without recompense. Inside there was only losing and not gaining- heat, and therefore motion. Iceland didn't even see the darkness as his lids had frozen shut.

And "Why?" he had to wonder. Why was he here? How had everything gone so wrong? His cold companion was now a bunny boiler, only the bunny was being frozen and it wasn't a bunny but himself, locked within a refridgerator only held by suction but apparently by a stronger force than he had the strength to reckon with.

But then, light. A crack and a blast, the door opening up to a stunned pair of Nords clamoring over his stiff, blue body as it toppled out onto them. A rasher of bacon was glued with ice to his rump, but more startlingly he wasn't wearing anything over it. Nor... over any other part of him.

"Damnit Iceland, we told you you could get help for this."

The poor man's teeth chattered in response.