Having just hung up his phone after getting the low-down from Cecil on the dangers that the street cleaners present, Sam is walking-- nay, stalking down the street, just a little too fast to be casual, shoulders back and tensed, breathing hard through his nose, eyes flicking around warily. It does not, however, take any particularly impressive observation skills to notice the flailing, fleeing man who nearly barrels into him in his haste.

'Whoah!' Sam exclaims, hands going up to grip the man's shoulders. 'Dude, dude, calm down, we can't panic!' He's assuming the guy's freaking out about Street Cleaning day, because that's only logical. 'If everyone panics, the carnage is only gonna be worse, ok?'