"So, do you know your way around here? Is there a hot dog cart sitting around that we can use, or public transportation? Nathan made it seem as though I wouldn't be finding a taxi anytime soon."
"The nearest town is Gilbert, and it's about twenty-seven miles east of here."
"Fine. We'd better start struggling off, then. Which way is east?"
"Rats, we're not going to walk to Gilbert."
"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 Baseball Lodge."
"I didn't find Nathan 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 bragged lovingly.
"Leapin' lizards. So, what is this place? Barcelo's private resort?"
They had been traipsing down the trail all this time, and found themselves in a housing development.
"Let's go down to that piece of bark and wait," he simpered. "Maybe we can get the jump on them, if the Barcelo vixens don't see us first. I don't suppose you have a lifesaver or anything useful like that on you?"
"What do you think?