The Avengers are sent to the U.S. to investigate wrongdoing in America's Heartland ... a temporary assignment ... or so they believe ...
[John Steed and Emma Peel are tooling down a country road in the Bentley.]
Peel [affecting her patented nonchalance]: So this is America. Funny, it's not as big as I thought.
Steed: No, well I expect that map of the USSR may have thrown you off a trifle.
Peel: Dosvedanya! [Tosses map out the window.] You know, I read the intel, Steed, but for the life of me, I don't understand why we had to come here in person.
Steed: Well, Mrs. Peel, had to see for ourselves, didn't we? You want something done right, pip-pip and all that. Not to worry, we'll meet our agent at the rendezvous, set up housekeeping, then pop up the
telephone pole to find out our next move.
Peel [eyebrows raised]: Set up housekeeping, Steed? Together? In ... HOOTERville?
Steed [so suave he practically growls]: That WAS the general idea, Mrs. Peel. Prob?
Peel: It's just that I get allergic smelling hay.
Peel: Steed, that man is walking a pig down the street like a dog.
Steed: This is America, Mrs. Peel; stranger things will happen before we leave.
[Outside the Hooterville General Store, Mr. Kimball the county agent, and Ralph Monroe, female handyman, are waiting to greet the newcomers. Steed and Peel park and walk over.]
Kimball: Howdy! Welcome to Hooterville, Mr. and Miz Douglas!
Steed: Mr. Kimball, I believe. A pleasure. [They shake hands bracingly]
Kimball: Now, here's the deed to yer rental, an' here's a map t' get there -- Ralph drew it herself on the back of this-here tabacca pouch ...
Ralph [can't take her eyes off Mrs. Peel]: Them're mighty purdy leather pants, Miz Douglas! I reckon you could rope a steer inside o' ten seconds in them pants!
Peel [looks down her nose]: Indeed …