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| Finally, we're out! I've got to hand it to you, man. It got pretty hairy back there, but you got us out, just like you said! | |
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| No worries, bro. Just a quick dismemberment of our friend Jacko, a brief interlude in which I flush his soggy remains down the public latrine, and a cell frisk is all it took. | |
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| So now that we're out of the slammer, it won't be long before they sic the dogs and guys with cork-bullet shotguns on us. | |
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| No worries, man. Right at the end of this hill is a life raft Big Johnson traded us for a peek at what's under my darkened hood, God rest his soul. | |
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| Well, now that we've got 2000 miles to go before we wash ashore, want to play a round of A Million Bottles of Beer on the Wall? | |
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| I think I'm going to pick the next place we go. | |
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