Mark takes some time he doesn't have to ponder the obvious, while the number of Trail-hungry henchmen grows by the panel. Do the thugs have the grapes to bring Mark down, or will they let him slip out of their grasp again? Each side has a weakness that the other can exploit as the clock winds down on this convoluted epic.
To start, it's obvious that Mark's ridiculously boring personal narrative has jeopardized his animal alliances. Andy, Sneaky, and that omnipresent stork can only tolerate so much. For whatever reason, the turtles appear immune to the wild self-involved conjecture.
Do yourself a favor, Mark, and SHUT YOUR KHAKI-COVERED ASS UP. You're supposed to be a journalist. Journal it. Shit. I'm so pissed off right now that I won't even mention the prancing.
On the flip side, it's obvious from all of the contrived banter around the shrimp boat that the henchmen will hunt for Mark until the bitter end, unlikely facial hair or not. But the fact remains that if they don't do something about those ruffled crotches, these three are NEVER getting back in the game.
That guy in back might be able to help if his bearded friend would stop ghost-stroking his unruffled junk in the foreground. At this point, it's too soon to tell just how ruffled these crotches are going to get, but nothing would surprise me.