85.
   The mummies were interrupted by a rustling sound coming from the darkness behind us. It grew louder. We turned around to see an enormous centipede shaking with fury rising over us. Its antennae coiled around its jaws. Its dozens of legs flailed wildly. “What in the hell are you punks doing down here? Do you know what I do with nosey little twits like you? I eat them for lunch. If you’re so interested in what these carcasses have to say about torture and death, then maybe it’s time for a little demonstration!”

   Pat and Nanette froze with fear. Claudia grabbed my arm. Christ, no magic dogs, no magic balloon. It looked like this was it. “Aren’t you in the least bit interested in why we are here?”, I asked in desperation. “Do you think we are the only ones looking under rocks to find the real face of history?”
   It worked, at least for a moment. The centipede paused. A sadistic grin expanded across its round head. “So Nancy Drew has uncovered a mystery, has she? You’ve uncovered a couple of banana republic coups. So what? What are you going to do, tell everyone?” A sharp cackle escaped its jaws. “Do you really think anyone gives a shit about a couple of coups in South America? Do you think anyone gives a flying fuck about a hundred coups in a hundred countries? Even if they’re not as fat and sassy as they used to be, even if they’re not fat and sassy at all, they’re either too proud or too ignorant or too scared to care about anybody but themselves. What will you do when you turn over the rock that hides the real face of history, the rock that covers the pathway to hell? Even when you or a million others like you find that rock, nothing will change. What is justice? What is freedom? What is democracy? Tiny candles on the shit cake of humanity, there for distraction, there for decoration, nothing more. But enough of this. I’m hungry.”