(Our scene today is one of peace, serenity...)

TB: Where the crap is this place?

(... and a WWA Superstar quoting Strong Bad out of frustration. Perhaps we should let him explain where, exactly, we are.)

TB: We, o ye of big mouth and no physical manifestation, are trying to find a particular village near New Orleans. I have a few things I'd like to get cleared up, and...

(Tracer suddenly stops short.)

TB: Was I just talking to a hypothetical narrator?

Tyler: You were.

TB: Wow... I haven't done that in YEARS. I even quit with that type of avant garde comedy before you had your little experience with insanity after being kidnapped by the Horsemen.

Tyler: Interesting how we've come full circle since then. I talked to people who weren't there after dealing with the Horsemen, you're doing it before having a match with a former Horseman.

TB: It's the great circle of life, Tyler. Something many Indian tribes built their core beliefs around. Speaking of Indian tribes...

(The two come into a clearing surrounded by sparsely-planted trees and a few crudely-made mud huts. There is a fire blazing in the center of this clearing, and a man is sitting on a log, prodding it. He is dressed in a humble flannel shirt and blue jeans. Tracer calls out to him.)

TB: Pardon me, sir!

(The man looks up.)

Man: Yes?

TB: Good afternoon. I am Tracer Bullet, WWA Superstar, and a resident of the Big Easy. I've come out here today to get a genuine...

(Tracer pauses momentarily, then looks at the palm of his hand, as if reading something.)

TB: A genuine Chitimacha's opinion on a few things. You wouldn't happen to be...

(He checks his hand again.)

TB: Ralph Darden, would you?

Ralph: Yes, I would. What can I do for you?

TB: Well, first and foremost, I am a wrestler by trade. And this Monday night, I have a match with someone trying to re-establish their Indian heritage. I was wondering if you could tell me a few things about how to properly deal...

(Tracer pulls a picture of Shaman out of his trench coat and holds it at arm's length toward Ralph.)

TB: ... with this guy.

(Ralph studies the picture carefully for a few moments.)

Ralph: Sorry, no.

TB: Why not?

Ralph: First of all, he's a Navajo.

TB: I know that, but I wasn't about to drive all the way out to Arizona just to pick up some good strategy to use against him. Can't you tell me anything at all?

Ralph: I can tell you that one of the other guys out here is pretty into your... profession. Maybe you can talk to him.

(Ralph turns his head and calls toward one of the huts.)

Ralph: Hey! John Paul! There's a guest out here that would like to talk to you for a bit!

(A rotund, balding man in a white polo shirt pokes his head out.)

JP: Hey! I know that guy! Hold on, I'll be right out...

(John Paul exits the hut and comes to shake Tracer's hand.)

JP: Tracer Bullet! It's a real... well, I'm not going to lie, I'm not exactly thrilled to meet you, but you took the time to come out here to talk to us, and I'm going to treat you like any respectable host should.

TB: Thanks, I think.

JP: You've got questions about Shaman, right?

TB: You do pay attention, don't you?

JP: As much as I can. Now, I'd love to help you...

TB: ... buuuut?

JP: But nothing. I'd love to help you. Shaman is an insult to our people in general. Parading about like a wildman, talking all the time but never really saying anything... I'll tell you, I'm just as offended by his antics as I am by those of Chief Illiniwek.

TB: Ah yes, the University of Illinois mascot. That's a travesty in and of itself.

JP: You do pay attention, don't you?

TB: As much as I can. And touche.

JP: Now, I can understand his wanting to get more in touch with his cultural heritage. We Chitimacha are very keen on doing the same thing. But he's going about it all wrong. Perhaps there's a way you could exploit that. Or if not, at least help him see the folly of his ways.

TB: And how do you propose I do that, exactly?

JP: By outsmarting him. I know I should be the last one to invoke stereotypes, but big guys... well, they're usually not too bright.

TB: Shaman is a perfect example of this. You know, I formulated a theory that should be applicable to everyone simply by watching his recent promos.

Tyler: What's that?

(Tracer and John Paul look at Tyler as if he'd suddenly grown another head.)

Tyler: What? I haven't gotten to say anything for awhile...

TB: Be that as it may, my theory is this... if you talk long enough, you will eventually contradict yourself. For instance, Shaman goes on and on about how he's going to reclaim his position at the top, and then says, quote... "The road to nowhere leads to me." This would naturally imply that, as the road to nowhere would of course LEAD nowhere, that that's where Shaman would be. Nowhere. It's crazy talk, that's what it is.

JP: Ah yes, I saw some of those myself. I had to shake my head in awe of just how many different ways someone can say the exact same thing.

(Tracer laughs and shakes his head as well.)

TB: So, what else do you have for me?

JP: I really haven't told you anything to speak of yet. And to be honest, I probably can't. All the strategy I could think of are things you should already know. Remember, there are fundamental differences between every tribe, and even more when you take into account the areas our tribe and his have traditionally lived in. All of the survival instincts that have been passed from generation to generation in this tribe would prove worthless against a desert-dweller.

TB: I suppose I can understand that. Well, it was nice to meet an honest-to-goodness...

(Tracer looks at his hand again.)

TB&JP: Chitimacha.

JP: And it was nice to meet you, too.

Ralph: Well, John Paul, are we all ready to go back home?

TB: Home?

JP: Sure. We all live in a community a few miles up the road. We're just out here connecting with nature, and getting back to our roots, and all that. You didn't honestly think we lived in huts like that these days, did you?

TB: Err... no, I suppose I didn't. Well, I suppose Tyler and I will be off now, as well, then.

(Tracer turns to go, but Tyler lingers a little bit.)

Ralph: So you say you have to put up with that savage on a daily basis?

Tyler: That's about the size of it. And he's not really a savage... more just an ass.

Ralph: Clearly.

JP: Eh... he wasn't as much of one as I would have thought. I'll have to watch Monday night to see what happens.

Tyler: I hope you enjoy it.

(Tyler then leaves the two men to their own devices and jogs to catch up to Tracer.)

TB: So, what were you guys talking about?

Tyler: You know... this and that...

TB: Like how much of an ass I am?

Tyler: And looking forward to Melt... oh, crap.

(Tracer slaps Tyler in the back of the head.)

TB: Let's just be done with this then, shall we?

Tyler: Let's.

(Fade to black.)