Now we're the good ol' boys who know better than to get all wrapped up in someone else's family drama.

( Forgive an old(er) man his carefree, vacant indifference. If not for the damned child now aggressively turning around to wag his tongue at'im, he'd be whistling and grinning through that happy piece of wisdom.

Instead, he's mean, back-strained, sighing. )

They're saying, what? Go east? Get out? Sure. That's the mission. ( And roger that. ) Don't hear nothing in it about no man's war agenda.

( But it's the small print, isn't it? Inaction is still choice, and for all their little heads know, they're feeding right into some bigger asshole's strategy to repurpose them for a war effort.

No such thing as a freebie. Hitting the road is still costs of transport. They'll pay for'em some point. The bill always hits you. )