It’s moments before sunset and a massive traffic jam is preventing anyone from getting from the bottom of the slopes to the centre of the village for some fun and frivolous après-ski. Deep in the tailback is the hapless Josh, whose one slice of good fortune in months—accidentally securing a date that evening with a confused and arguably exploited Norwegian tourist—looks in deep jeopardy thanks to a lack of any kind of forward movement of any vehicle whatsoever. In complete abuse of his credentials and neglect of his scant training and contravening Ski Patrol code for the second time that day, Josh leaves his Mini Metro by the side of the road to investigate. With his deep knowledge of the terrain and youthful stupidity, he daringly jumps across ravines, under bridges and down frozen sewage tunnels and quickly sees the cause of the hold-up—half a dozen unmarked buses struggling to getting up the merest of inclines—wheels spinning, engines overrevving, smoke billowing—and looking for all the world like a train on the subcontinent in rush hour. Not so many seasons ago Josh was selling tickets for these buses and he knows an overcrowded and poorly equipped fleet when he sees one. He immediately radios in to base for backup. Lt. Powers sends a crack team to investigate, because he knows no other way. Will the Ski Patrol team get to the bottom of what on earth these underpowered and overcrowded buses are doing on the mountain? Will everyone get to the bottom of the slope to the safety of cheap and plentiful alcohol? Will Josh get to the Norwegian bottom?