Re-edit:
EXT. WOODS – DAY
A RAMBLER STROLLS THROUGH THE FOREST.
SUDDENLY, A STEEL TRAP SNAPS SHUT ON HIS ANKLE.
RAMBLER:
Jesus Christ!
HE DROPS TO THE GROUND IN AGONY.
A WOMAN WITH A BRIGHT BLUE JACKET AND CLIPBOARD EMERGES FROM BEHIND A TREE – A CHUGGER.
CHUGGER:
Can I just get a moment of your time, sir?
RAMBLER:
Get help! Call an ambulance!
CHUGGER:
I'm talking to you today on behalf of Free the Bears. It's a very worthy charity.
RAMBLER:
I don't care, I have to get out of here!
CHUGGER:
Surely you can spare five minutes of your lunch break for charity, sir?
RAMBLER:
I'm not on a lunch break!
CHUGGER:
Great! Now did you know, sir, that every year around four hundred bears in India are captured from the wild and forced into the dancing bear trade?
RAMBLER:
Trapped like me you mean?
CHUGGER:
Exactly like you, sir.
RAMBLER:
Wait… did you do this? Is this your trap?
CHUGGER:
Yes it is, sir.
RAMBLER:
But why?
CHUGGER:
Because - and I'm trusting you'll donate generously for my candour here - a tungsten steel, forty pound, spring-loaded bear trap with offset jaws makes for a much more colourful demonstration than a couple of laminated photos of distressed bears in fezzes.
RAMBLER:
You… you… arggghh!
CHUGGER:
I can see you're on board so I'm going to fill out the top bit of the form for you now. Where's my pen got to? (PADS HERSELF DOWN) Just bear with me. Get it? Bear? Little joke there (SHE FINDS HER PEN AND BEGINS TO WRITE). Okay, today's date… the twenty fourth of October. You're a mister, obviously! Now if I can just get your first nam…
SHE LOOKS DOWN BUT THE MAN HAS VANISHED. THERE'S ONLY THE TRAP LEFT NOW. AND A GNAWED-OFF FOOT.
CHUGGER (CONT):
(TUTTING) Chewed through his own ankle. How rude!
THE RAMBLER IS SOME DISTANCE AWAY CRAWLING ACROSS THE GROUND, TRAIL OF BLOOD IN HIS WAKE.
A BEAR ENTERS THE FRAME NEXT TO THE CHUGGER WEARING A LITTLE FEZ.
CHUGGER (CONT):
Go get your lunch then.
THE END