Nothing phases Nancy. She is a busty blonde who has total belief in human kindness. She just knows everyone loves her, and this gives her a joy and confidence in life that indeed make her adorable. And fearless: she could not conceive that anyone or anything could possibly harm her. Her consequent demeanour of brimming confidence stands her in excellent stead, being universally taken to be a sign of immense intellectual ability. No-one considers taking advantage of her: they don't think they can get away with it.
Because of this assumed capability, she was invited to join an expedition to explore the upper reaches of the Amazon. She blithely signed the mandatory form absolving the organisers of any responsibility for her safety. Others were nervous. Not Nancy. Her reassuring calm amazed everyone. She remained undisturbed during the unexpected wait for visas, even when news arrived of fatalities suffered by an earlier expedition, and all through the storm that ravaged the lower Amazon and delayed their final departure, right up to the time when, bivouacked high up the river, she stumbled out of the tent in the middle of the night in urgent need of a pee.
No place was satisfactory – too marshy at first, too prickly later. As she wandered further and further from the camp in her skimpy nightie, pressing a finger tight against her pee-hole, the animals who watched her were in awe. Any human with such effrontery had to be powerful – too powerful to attack. Even the mosquitoes whined at a distance.
It takes a snake to see through such idiotic bravado. Languidly wrapping his tail around a branch, he lowers his length in a lopsided U and hisses softly. Nancy says, "Hello."
Our snake is mildly surprised, but recovers himself. "Where are you going, young lady?" he sibilates.
"I'm desperate for a pee," squawks Nancy, "and I really can't find anywhere suitable."
