Rutentuten falls back on recruiting the local wildlife for his purposes. Snuka is still from Southern China.
OK, I admit the artwork is awfully cluttered today, I hope everyone can discern what’s going on. If not, here’s the textual version: Rutentuten kneels off the upper panel border, looking into his prophecy pool, which reflects his face. In the first panel, he sees a scorpion beneath a rock. (They like to hang out there, that’s why they casted The Rock for the Scorpion King role.) In Panels 2- 4, he sees through the eyes of the scorpion, which crawls into the camp and attacks Snuka, who picks it up with chopsticks and eats it.
A little detail I’d like to draw your esteemed attention to is a part of the hearse, visible at the right of panel 3. Yep, I managed to have it look completely different once again.
IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: Don’t eat living scorpions. Deadly.
Less important disclaimer: Don’t eat raw scorpions. Unhealthy.
Hardly any disclaimer at all: If you eat grilled scorpions, don’t forget the garlic sauce. Tasty.
Seriously, though, scorpions are edible, and considered a delicacy in some countries (after removal of the poisonous stinger). I’ve got no personal experience there, but they are supposed to taste similiar to prawns, from which they are not to far removed, as far as biological relations are concerned. Remember this simple rule to distinguish them: scorpions curl upward, prawns curl downward. Remembering this rule might save your life someday – like, when you vacation in Morocco, and your hotel gets flooded, and there’s a foot of water in your room, and you just don’t know for sure what the thing that just crawled into your shoes actually is.
And much to Rutentuten’s dismay, he will find that the classical canons of Egyptian plagues know of no animal a Chinese chef wouldn’t know of, as well. Yes, there are different canons of Egyptian plagues, the biblical one offering a selection from a whole branch of Egyptian literature, the so-called lamentaries. Some are quite extensive, often including plagues of decidedly mediocre terribleness, like ‘the makers of marmalade are angry’ 0_o (Lament of Impuwer, Papyrus Leiden 344).
So, vote for me, or I will make the makers of marmalade be angry. *evil laugh* Thanks fo visiting, and we will back on Monday, with totally uncluttered artwork. Promise.