I don't know why I follow this maniac.
The idea being to penetrate a marsh from this road entering the deep, darkest heart of America.
Don't go, Whip!
Planned point of entry.
"I don't know why I'm married to you, Alfie."
"Ahem. Um, Alfie?"
"I'm think I'm being chased by a snapper!"
"Don't worry, Whip! I've got him!"
Wants my ass.
Stressed snapper free to pursue some other panicked marshwhacker.
Cameraman still wobbly.
Tree Whip-toppled during bullrush flee from snapper.
Alfie, fed up, decides to abandon marsh plan and head for the fields.
"I'm sorry."
"But that was a mean snapper, Alfie. It was nipping at my heels."
"You mean your high heels, Whip."
"We can go back to the marsh if you really want to."
"Alfie? Are you mad at me? You're always walking away from me."
"I hope you don't plan on walking in that tall grass!"
"Alfie!!!"
"I'm hungry, Alfie. Is this wheat?"
"Stop crying, Whip."
"You, uh, you don't think that snapper followed us here, do you?"
"That's it, you wimp. I'm leaving."
"Okay! I'll be good from now on, Alfie! Let's go look for some pretty things!"