While staying in the snowy town of Jackson, Wyoming, he was required to help around town a bit. Somehow, he landed as an “errand boy,” much to his distaste. He’d rather be a scout of perhaps even a lookout—but no, he runs errands for the town folks, delivering who-knows-what to who-cares-what.

Bundled warmly in a thick jacket and winter boots, brushing snow off of a package, he raps his knuckles against a door.