Close on Killeroo, lighting a cigarette.
Killeroo: I mean, you've got to see this from my point of view.
Same shot. Killeroo exhales smoke.
Voice (OP): I can't move.
Killeroo: Think about it...
Same shot. Killeroo is disgusted by the thought of what he is saying.
Voice (OP): I... I can't feel my legs.
Killeroo: I just waltz in to the nearest boozer and say... that?
Wide shot. Killeroo leaning against a WELL.
Voice (from inside the well): Please, just go get help!
Killeroo: Not happenin', Tim.