Tourist (lost, flipping through a crumpled map): Excuse me, could you point me towards Snowshoe Mountain?
Local (leans on porch swing, rocking gently): Headed to the slopes, are ya? Well, you gotta get yourselves pointed due west, then follow the smell of waffles.
Tourist (confused): Smell of waffles?
Local (nods sagely): Yep. Surefire way. Follow your nose and you can't go wrong. Now, those waffles might lead you a bit astray, might take you past some emu farms and a fellow who sells hats made of recycled tires, but don't you fret none. Eventually, that sweet, syrupy scent will deposit you right at the foot of Snowshoe.
Tourist (increasingly bewildered): Emu farms and tire hats? Are you sure this is the right way?
Local (chuckles): Well, there's another way, but it involves a goat with a penchant for polka music and a covered bridge guarded by a grumpy gnome. Up to you!
Tourist (exchanging glances with their travel companion): Uh, thanks anyway. We'll, uh, try looking at a map a little longer.
Local (waves them off): Suit yourselves! But remember, the waffles will guide you true!
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