A plane is flying over a remote jungle in South America when the engine fails and it crashes deep in the jungle, hundreds of kilometers from the nearest town. All onboard are killed, except for a Frenchman, an Englishman and an Australian. They band together and decide instead of waiting for rescuers, they’ll head out and try to find help.
After a few days of walking and struggling through the thick jungle, all 3 men are starving, dehydrated and on the verge of collapse when they see an oasis in front of them. They stagger towards the oasis and collapse in, slurping up the ice cool water and swimming around easing their aching muscles. After about 15 minutes later, a hoard of angry tribesman rush to the edge of the oasis screaming and hollering for the 3 men to get out of the water. Confused, dazed, and a little scared at the Amazonian warriors brandishing spears and flaming torches they walk out of the oasis dripping wet. The leader of the tribe approaches the 3 men. He’s got facial piercings, and tribal tattoos. He wears the skull of a large predatory cat atop his head like a crown, it’s fangs protruding over the tribal leaders face which is twisted and contorted in anger and fury.
“HOW DARE YOU!!!” he bellows in broken English. “YOU SWIM IN LAKE OF SPIRTS. THIS HOLY LAKE! NO MAN SHALL TOUCH THESE HOLY WATERS!!!”
The Englishman steps forth, and holds his hands up in apology.
“We’re deeply sorry, we didn’t know. We have just survived a plane crash and have walked for 3 days without food or water. We weren’t to know”.
This seems to enrage the tribal leader further. “YOU SWAM IN THE HOLY LAKE, THE PUNISHMENT FOR SUCH A CRIME IS DEATH!”
The Frenchman steps forth and says “We weren’t to know this was a holy lake. We’re terribly sorry, please forgive us.”
The tribal leader shakes his head and bellows “YOU WILL DIE FOR YOUR CRIMES. WE WILL TURN YOUR SKIN INTO CANOES!”
The English, French, and Aussie all go white with fear. For a few moments nothing is said between either group. Before the Frenchman takes a deep breath and steps forth. “Fine, if our fate is death, so be it. But I will do it myself, not at the hands of these savages. Bring me a knife!” he demands.
The tribal leader produces a long blade and hands it to the Frenchman, who removes his beret, stands tall and proud and declares.
“VIVA LA FRANCE!” before pointing the knife at his chest and stabbing himself directly through his heart. He falls to his knees, humming the French national anthem, before collapsing on the jungle floor, dead.
The Englishman is next. “If my destiny is to meet our lord and savior today, so be it. But I shall not let these savages be the one to take my life. Give me a knife” The tribal leader produces a second knife to which the Englishman holds to his neck. “GOD SAVE THE KING!” he shouts, before humming a quick “Swing low, sweet chariot” before slicing his throat from ear to ear. A waterfall of blood sprays out of his neck, and he too collapses to the jungle floor.
The Australian, having just watched his two fellow survivors end their lives, shrugs his shoulders at his fate, looks at the tribal leader and says “Fuck it, well let’s get on with it then. Bring me a fork!” he demands at the tribal leader. The tribal leader is a bit confused at the request, for he does not have a fork on him. He sends one of his hoard back to his village to get a fork. The man returns about 20 minutes later with a crude looking fork. The whole time, the Aussie has been humming ‘Down Under – Men at Work’ to himself. The tribal chief passes the fork to the Australian who looks at it casually, before glancing up at the hoard.
“Well, if I’m going to cark it ‘sarvo, I ain’t fucking doing it at the hands of you fucken savages” he snarls, before he stabs himself multiple times all over his arms, torso, neck and legs. Before long there’s blood flowing out of the fork marks all over his body. He looks at the tribal leader, a big shit-eating grin on his face and says “Fuck ya boat!”
