Polka Will Never Die: An Experiment

My theory is that this passage works without any explanation whatsoever.  The readers, or the audience, will make inferences about the circumstances and the characters -- perhaps the wrong ones, but it actually doesn't matter. They will see the important things.*  And I don't think you even need to be a Weird Al fan to appreciate it.

"Butters," Thomas said quietly, "if we stay here we're going to die."

"But if they've destroyed the car—" Butters began.

"We'll die," Thomas said. "But we don't have a choice. Whether or not they've destroyed it, our only chance of getting out of this alive is to get to the Beetle and hope it runs."

The little guy got even paler, and then abruptly doubled over and staggered over to the wall beneath one of my high windows. He threw up. He straightened after a minute and leaned back against the wall, shaking.

"I hate this," he whispered, and wiped his mouth. "I hate this. I want to go home. I want to wake up."

"Get it together, Butters," I said, my voice tight. "This isn't helping."

He let out a wild laugh. "Nothing I can do would help, Harry."

"Butters, you've got to calm down."

"Calm down?" He waved a shaking hand at the door. "They're going to kill us. Just like Phil. They're going to kill us and we're going to die. You, me, Thomas. We're all going to die."

I forgot my bad leg for a second, crossed the room to Butters, and seized him by the front of his shirt. I hauled up until his heels lifted off of the floor. "Listen to me," I snarled. "We are not going to die."

Butters stared up at me, pale, his eyes terrified. "We're not?"

"No. And do you know why?" He shook his head. "Because Thomas is too pretty to die. And because I'm too stubborn to die." I hauled on the shirt even harder. "And most of all because tomorrow is Oktoberfest, Butters, and polka will never die." He blinked. "Polka will never die!" I shouted at him. "Say it!"

He swallowed. "Polka will never die?"

"Again!"

"P-p-polka will never die," he stammered.

I shook him a little. "Louder!"

"Polka will never die!" he shrieked.

"We're going to make it!" I shouted.

"Polka will never die!" Butters screamed.

"I can't believe I'm hearing this," Thomas muttered.

--Jim Butcher, Dead Beat. 

FN*: In my view, the important things to glean from this passage are: (1) Butters (whoever he may be) is a coward and did not sign up for this particular adventure. (2) His companions are hardier than he, and determined to survive. (3) The narrator is using Butters's apparently overwhelming love of polka to get through to him so he can survive too.