There is, somehow, at least a dozen snakes curled up in Cedar's ten gallon hat. They took it off long enough to fix their hair and now this is their life.

"Uhhhhhhh." Their voice is stuck in limbo between a forced calm and unbridled panic. There will be no compromising. As soon as they pick a direction, they will go all in, and it'll probably be panic. "Heeeeeeelp?" Cedar looks around, then up toward the roof. Is there a fight going on up there? A sport game??? Do they need snakes????? "Soooomeooooone???"