Gregson stared at the flames with a sense of foreboding, but Lafayette’s dream kept echoing inside his head.
“Only one man survives—he’s fat with a receding hairline.” He was the last man standing; did that mean he would survive?”
The chief stared into his eyes. There is only one last task for you to do before you become our god.”
“And what is that?” Gregson asked.
“You must beat the village shaman in our pizza eating contest.”
“You get pizza down here?
Gregson looked at the tower of Pizza Hut boxes and suddenly his hunger returned. He gazed at the village shaman, who was fat with a receding hairline.
“It’s not over til it’s over,” Gregson said.
“You got that right!”
Gregson tasted the cheese and he was his old self again. One pizza disappeared and then another. The shaman couldn’t continue. And Gregson reach for the last slice and swallowed it whole.
“Hail our god!”
That’s all good and well, but I do need to get home. Do any of you know how to get there.”
The chief handed Gregson his cell phone. “Call helicopter.”
“What?” Gregson said. “I thought you people were untouched by human kind.”
“Who are you calling, ‘you people.'”
“What?” Gregson said.