Well, hey there, little feller. Say, you wouldn't have happened to have seen my cows roamin' about anywheres, would ya?
Do you know what I am?
Well, you're Jack Benson's boy, aintcha! Run along, now, and ask yer paw if he's seen my cows. Ol' Bessie needs to be milked by ten after six, or she gets cranky.
I... what? No... no, no, no. Listen, is there someone less senile I could point this laser at?