The Amazon, a green ocean that swallowed everything whole.
Trees rose like cathedrals, the buzz of insects sounded like engines, and a heat that made even stones sweat uncomfortably. Amidst it all, pushing its way through the vegetation as if it were the most normal thing in the world, was Kronk's food truck, covered in vines, with a parrot squawking on the roof like an emergency siren.
"Okay, I think I'm a little lost," said Kronk, stopping the vehicle at the edge of a wide, murky river. "The map said: Turn left at the giant tree with the weird face… but all the trees have weird faces!"
The little angel on his shoulder sighed patiently.
"I told you to get a magical compass."
The little devil snorted.
"Compasses are for cowards and weaklings! What you need is wild instinct. Look at that bush over there—it's clearly pointing the way to an ancient treasure!"
"Uh… I think it's just a bush shaped like a duck," said Kronk.
But before he could decide, a flurry of arrows whistled through the air and sank into the ground in front of the food truck. Kronk lifted his hands off the wheel, confused.
From the jungle emerged tall, muscular figures painted in bright colors. They were beautiful women, all armed with spears, bows, and gazes that mixed curiosity with fierce determination: Amazons.
"Stranger!" exclaimed one of them in an accent that sounded like a ceremonial drum. "Who dares to intrude upon our sacred territory?"
Kronk smiled nervously.
The map didn't mention anything about sacred territory!
"Uh… tourist?"
The Amazons exchanged quick whispers in their language, and suddenly a collective laugh erupted. The one who seemed to be the leader stepped forward and appraised him from head to toe.
For some reason, Kronk felt he should cover himself with his hands, even though he was fully clothed.
"Big. Strong. Muscles like trunks. And… cooks," she pointed at the food truck, which was steaming with the aroma of a still-simmering stew.
"Yes, I cook! And I also make a banana smoothie that takes away all your troubles!" said Kronk, proudly holding up a cup.
The leader turned to the others, as if she had just confirmed a prophecy.
"He is a messenger of the gods!" she declared. "He has come to us in the year of fertility!"
All of them shouted in unison and began surrounding him with dances and chants. Naive, Kronk joined the dance, thinking it was some kind of tourist welcome.
…
That night, he was invited to a grand feast in the heart of the Amazon village. Fires illuminated wooden huts, exotic fruits piled in baskets, and Kronk sat in the center, receiving attention as if he were a king.
They put flower necklaces on him, took off his shirt, painted symbols on his chest, and every time he lifted a piece of roasted meat to bite, all the Amazons sighed as if he had just spoken a sacred spell.
"Wow, such hospitality…" said Kronk, mouth full. "Are you sure I don't have to pay for any of this?"
With such kindness, he would gladly return every summer!
"Your payment will come later, chosen one," said the leader, with a mysterious smile.
The little angel raised an eyebrow, visibly uneasy and nervous.
"Uh, Kronk… don't you notice anything weird here?"
The little devil elbowed him and gave him a look.
"Forget it! This is the opportunity of a lifetime! Free food, applause, and those Amazons can't take their eyes off your abs."
Kronk laughed, shrugging.
"I guess I'm popular today."
…
Later, they led him to a large hut decorated with tapestries and feathers. In the center was a huge bed of fresh leaves and soft furs. Kronk flopped onto it, a goofy smile of satisfaction on his face.
A strange sweet incense seemed ready to be lit at any moment.
"Wow, now this is first-class service!"
The leader entered with a group of young Amazons laughing among whispers. They closed the door, approached, and began speaking loudly, making sure Kronk understood:
"Great chosen one, today is the day you secure the strength of our people."
"Your seed will make our tribe prosper for a hundred generations."
"The legacy of eternal vigor!"
Kronk blinked.
"Seed?"
The Amazons nodded eagerly.
"Oh, I get it!" The little devil clapped, happy like a wolf seeing a flock of sheep. "This is a permanent residency offer, with benefits included!"
The little angel almost choked.
"Kronk, don't you realize—" For his dismay, he seemed not to, "they want you to… to… well… multiply the census!"
The phrase struck Kronk like lightning.
He looked at the enthusiastic leader lighting the incense, looked at the soft, wide bed, looked at the smiling Amazons in suggestive poses, looked at the growing pile of clothes on the floor.
.
..
…
"OOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!" he suddenly shouted, leaping to his feet. "THAT! NO! I! WILL! NOT!"
The Amazons looked at him, confused.
"Do you refuse to help my tribe endure?"
"Yes! I mean… no! I mean… I have to go get milk! Urgently!"
And without another explanation, he did a clumsy somersault, rolled under the skin curtain, and shot out of the village like a jaguar on fire.
…
The Amazons chased him, but Kronk was already in full panic mode.
He climbed a palisade, fell headfirst into a barrel of fruit, got up with half a watermelon on his head, and kept running.
"We lost him!" one cried, almost sobbing.
Weren't they attractive enough for the messenger of the gods?
"No, we will find him!" swore the leader, eyes shining. "A man who flees with such vigor without even sweating—just imagine how he could apply that same vigor in the bedroom… he is the perfect mate!"
Kronk reached the food truck, started the engine, and shot off through the trees.
Behind him, the Amazons ran tirelessly, shouting promises of pleasure and eternal glory.
"Don't look for me!" yelled Kronk, desperately turning the wheel to lose them. "I'm not your express fertility service!"
The food truck bounced over a massive root, leapt over a small clearing, and disappeared into the thicket like a runaway metal deer.
…
Hours later, exhausted, Kronk parked on the riverbank and took a deep breath.
"Well… I think I got away."
The little angel sighed.
"You know they'll come back for you, right?"
The little devil grinned mischievously.
"And when they do, Kronk, are you sure you'll want to escape again?"
Kronk covered his ears, red as a tomato.
"I'm not listening, not listening, not listening!"
Meanwhile, deep in the jungle, the Amazons lit bonfires and raised their spears to the sky.
"WE SWEAR!" they shouted in unison. "We will find the chosen one! And this time, he won't escape until all our sisters have his offspring!"
The jungle roared with their voices, and Kronk, though he didn't yet know it, had just become the most sought-after romantic legend in the entire Amazon.
They would get those seeds at any cost!