"Probably not, no," Autor says, as Westley embraces Buttercup and spots the giant rat. "I can't imagine any swamp having quicksand like that. And those look like rabid wait rats."
"We'll never succeed," Buttercup says, sand sticking to her face. "We may as well die here."
"No! No! We have already succeeded," Westley says, putting Buttercup to her feet. "I mean, what are the three terrors of the fire swamp? One, the flame spurt. No problem. There's a popping sound preceding each, we can avoid that. Two, the lightning sand, but you were clever enough to discover what that looks like so in the future we can avoid that, too."
"There he goes being patronizing again," Autor says, scoffing.
"Westley," Buttercup says, grasping his arm. "What about the R.O.U.Ses?"
"Rodents of Unusual Size? I don't believe they exist."
At which point he's tackled by one of them, prompting a snicker from Autor.
no subject
"We'll never succeed," Buttercup says, sand sticking to her face. "We may as well die here."
"No! No! We have already succeeded," Westley says, putting Buttercup to her feet. "I mean, what are the three terrors of the fire swamp? One, the flame spurt. No problem. There's a popping sound preceding each, we can avoid that. Two, the lightning sand, but you were clever enough to discover what that looks like so in the future we can avoid that, too."
"There he goes being patronizing again," Autor says, scoffing.
"Westley," Buttercup says, grasping his arm. "What about the R.O.U.Ses?"
"Rodents of Unusual Size? I don't believe they exist."
At which point he's tackled by one of them, prompting a snicker from Autor.