From the development vaults of Walt Disney Pictures, dated: February 18, 2008:
(EXT. Crowley Corners, Tennessee - Hannah Montana and best friend Lilly watch cows in a pasture.)
Hannah: Staring at these grazing ungulates, I question my own identity. Are they better off masticating the dew-flecked herbage below them, unaware of the charnelhouse that awaits? Are they secure in the knowledge of their own existence?
Lilly: They are cows, that is all. They are there and then they are not, not not and whatnot. That is their only proof of existence.
Hannah: Schopenhauer says, "Every man takes the limit of his own field of vision for the limits of the world." Are we eternally bound to this corporeal dimension? Is there a hereafter?
Killy: A here, perhaps, not necessarily an after.
Hannah: If there is or there is not, I should like to know then that my ignorance of its irreality is equally and justifiably real.
(Brody approaches, riding a horse.)
Brody: Mornin', ladies.
(The horse shits on Hannah's shoes.)
Hannah: Sweet niblets! I will not have my Manolos sullied by equine evacuation!
(Brody rides off.)
Lilly: Your indignity parallels the canon of Chaucerian excrement, in which the body of all mankind--filthy, selfish, primitive--obeys the ritual of process and transmutation.
Hannah: Chaucer say what?!
Lilly: Now is the time for change, dear Hannah, to modify that pivot where stasis and momentum co-exist.
Hannah: If navigating my career is analogous to food wending its luscious way as locusts through a horse's dank innards, then I must move with haste or become stuck in an endless gastric phase, with no acetylcholine in sight.
Lilly: A person mastering an unbreakable horse is no less masterful than a person not mastering a breakable horse.
Hannah: Or just as masterful.
Lilly: Or masterfully just.
(Lilly exits. From behind a haystack, an older Hannah Montana appears and faces her younger self.)
Hannah: Do I make the right choice? Is my future justified?
Older Hannah: Is anything justified?
Older Hannah/Hannah: Ah...sweet niblets.
(They exit.)