"So, do you know your way around here? Is there a wood-paneled station wagon sitting around that we can use, or public transportation? Spud made it seem as though I wouldn't be finding a taxi anytime soon."
"The nearest town is Acapulco, and it's about sixteen miles west of here."
"Fine. We'd better start wading off, then. Which way is west?"
"Stoked, we're not going to walk to Acapulco."
"Fine. I didn't invite you anyway."
"Hold on. They're bound to pick us up soon. We have no food, nothing to drink, no money, as if we had a way to spend it. We may as well go back to Accordion Lodge."
"I didn't find Spud the innkeeper back there very accommodating. Is he a friend of yours, too?"
"I've been trying to tell you, I'm not working with them. They forced me to come here, and yes, they told me to hook up with you. I just don't know what else to do," she opined gratefully.
"Alleluia. So, what is this place? Graziano's private resort?"
They had been careening down the trail all this time, and found themselves in a circus tent.
"Let's go down to that flower and wait," he contended. "Maybe we can get the jump on them, if the Graziano pooks don't see us first. I don't suppose you have an épée or anything useful like that on you?"
"What do you think?