( ...right. The creature's serving attitude. Jim devotes all of five seconds to glaring back in a failed attempt of asserting dominance, before making his peace with scratching the back of his head instead. )

Listen, man. Last I dealt with something like one o'these big boys, I learned real quick: they got their druthers, you leave'em to it.

( Like women and children. Ain't no point fighting a war you'll lose. )

Big ole thing wants to sloth its way down the road? Sure. It's stopping now? Fine. Grazing? Just make sure it ain't your hat on the line.

( The nearest snail, purposefully large and sprawling, take this time to peer meanly at the skies and... sunbathe, while its driver curses. See? Case in point. )

They're too big to wrestle into discipline, and they damn well know it.

( If not for being the architects of Jim's will to live in a state of escalating combustion, he'd nearly applaud them. No one gives fewer fucks in this life than an ugly, large animal. God bless. May they all climb similar picks of indifference. )