"John, you have no idea what eating so much parasite-infested fruit will do to your body," Delta warned the lobster.
"I'm a god," replied Zoidberg, yellow juice dripping from his mouth flaps. "I know what I'm doing."
Amy, discomfited by a rumbling in her stomach, looked over the mob of natives as they chanted and danced. "There must be something to eat that doesn't contain parasites," she grumbled.
Seeing a basket of wafers being passed around by several loincloth-wearing men, Delta stretched her arm and snatched a few of the delicacies. Examining them with her microscopic vision, she stated, "These look clean, Amy."
Grabbing one of the wafers, Amy remarked, "They look like sesame crackers." Then she took a bite and grimaced with disgust. "They taste like sesame street!"
"Let me try one," said Hermes. As he munched on one of the wafers, he said, "You're right, mon, it tastes like roasted cardboard. A little Solomon Gundy would make it more appetizing, but the stuff's hard enough to find on Earth, let alone here."
Amy waved one of the crackers at the freckled girl to her left. "Hungry, Leela?"
"No," was the reply. Leela scarcely bothered to turn her head.
I'm going to be stuck here for the rest of my life, she thought, her eyes tightly closed. I miss New New York. I miss Nibbler. I even miss my mono-eye.
A native woman in a pink tube top approached the group, her wooden tray laden with four golden goblets. She picked up one of the cups and offered it to Delta, who inquired, "What is it?"
Zoidberg overheard her question. "It's Chanku, a fermented grain beverage," he explained. "Drink, my friends, drink!"
Once she had scanned the liquid in the goblet for harmful microorganisms, Delta tipped the cup to her glossy metal lips. After a few swallows she lowered it, and let out a fiery belch. "Oh, my," she said, embarrassed. "Pardon me."
While Hermes and Amy eagerly partook of their drinks, Leela cradled the goblet in her shackled hands and gazed at her two-eyed, curly-haired reflection in the liquor. I can hardly blame Mildred for what she did, she thought. If I were given a chance to get out of hell by sending someone else there, I'm not sure what I'd choose. She sighed angrily. I thought body switching was a simple matter of seeing someone else in the mirror, but it's not. My whole nature has changed. I'm not even human anymore. I'm one of them…a Chalnoth…a monster wired to kill. I need to kill like humans need to love.
The suns went down, Amy and Hermes became pleasantly tipsy, and the villagers constructed a fire to illuminate the pavilion. Zoidberg finally tired of eating Mochuka and reclined in his throne, all but immobilized by the gems around his neck and the fruit in his belly. To lend their god an air of mystique, the natives set up a pile of stones between him and the campfire, so that only his bald head was visible among the shadows.
"Now that you're a god," Hermes addressed the crustacean, "do you have any words of wisdom to share with us?"
Zoidberg cleared his throat. "Horror has a face, and you must make a friend of horror," he stated. "Horror and moral terror are your friends. If they are not, then they are enemies to be feared."
"I don't get it, mon," said Hermes. "What does it mean?"
"Don't ask me," was Zoidberg's reply. "It's just something I heard in a movie."
A woman's scream suddenly pierced the darkness. Amy, Hermes, Delta, and even Raven looked toward the source of the sound, and beheld a quartet of male villagers carrying a flat stone to which was bound a frantic-looking female in pink.
"What in Babylon…?" exclaimed Hermes.
"Chanana! Chanana!" the natives began to chant as the men approached Zoidberg's throne and laid the tablet and the woman across two wooden supports.
"What is the meaning of this?" Zoidberg called out.
One of the stone-bearers raised a dagger aloft and proudly replied, "We bring unto you a chanana, pure and unspoiled. Feast upon her blood, O great Lord Kootooloo."
"No thanks," said Zoidberg, patting his belly. "I can't eat another bite."
"Sweet llamas of the Bahamas!" cried Hermes as the firelight exposed more of the hapless woman's face. "It's her!"
"It's who, Hermes?" said Amy.
"That's the woman who wanted to have sex with me!" said Hermes, pointing.
Amy gaped in amazement at the throng of natives gathered around the stone. "Oh, schmeesh," she said. "Now I understand why the girls are so anxious to lose their virginity."
"Zoidberg!" shouted Hermes as the dagger-wielding man made ready to plunge his blade into the bound woman's chest. "Make them stop, mon! Command them to stop!"
But the lobster-god only stared vacantly at the scene of sacrifice, and said nothing.
To be continued
