the Funnelwhich

On the Yucatan Peninsula, Hurricane Dean uncovers the Incan Civilization

In a stunning, glorious turn of events, Hurricane Dean led nearby archaeologists in Peru to discover the thriving, modern Incan civilization long thought to be lost after Spanish conquistadors arrived, smothering their language with easy pronunciation and their nostrils with organic salsa. The archaeologists immediately held a press conference on a sacred burial ground, proclaiming, “Today is a great day for people interested in prodding these indigenous people with diseases and instruments and sadness. Too long have these people played Hide and Go Seek and won; today we win.” as they trampled over expensive steam-punk machinery and children. Says one, “Apparently, they were hidden under an extensive network of forestry and fauna. Totally by accident; I’m sure they’re glad we discovered them thanks to our hard work.” Hurricane Dean could not be reached for an interview, citing extreme fury, indignation, and “betrayal.”

When questioned, the Incans groaned. “It took a century to pull off the last disappearance, and it’s going to be such a pain to retrieve those plans from our state-of-art archival library located next to the flying car mechanic shop and our Helioport.” One woman speculated they might try going to another country. “How’s Darfur? Nobody in the West pays attention to Darfur, right? That should tide us for the next five hundred years.” The Incans went to their collective attics and pulled out the banners from last time to hang, dusting off centuries of age and regret. “We don’t have any fucking gold,” said one banner. Another, “Please stop sneezing.”

“Have you ever thought about tourism?” I asked. “No, the Vikings proved that idea would never work. Boy, they are a rowdy bunch.” “Don’t you mean were?” “Uh, yeah.” The man I was interviewing then hid a curious horned helmet behind his back. When I asked to see it, he stabbed me with them. As I woke up in their hypermodern hospital, attached to wireless IV drips, I pondered the fate of this ancient civilization. Where would they go next? How do they cure impotence? The future awaits.

“No it doesn’t!” screams an Incan child running away with his family. The hospital is deserted for the Incans have packed their bags again. Without anyone to operate my medical treatment, it’s getting blurry now. Blink. Blink.