"I wouldn't go quite dat far," I say, frowning as I snap a small branch off of the tree and try to charge it up. Rien. Dis isn't good. Still, ain't no sense in making the lady any more edgy den she already is. Taking just a few extra seconds to grab an old pack of matches from my pocket and spark up the old-fashioned way, I take a step from the tree for a little perspective. She's pretty high up dere, but with only a few branches between where she's perched and the ground. An' I don't see her being much in the mood for climbing in dat dress.

"So you're gonna be wanting the quickest way down, den?" I ask, but it's mostly rhetorical. Not waiting for an answer, I jump up, catching an edge in the trunk and vaulting myself up the rest of the way. From dere, it's a simple matter of a well-placed kick to a load-bearing branch beneath the runaway bride and I'm easily dropping back to the ground. Whole thing takes about fifteen seconds before I'm back on my feet, arms outstretched and waiting for gravity to do the rest.