The natives long knew that the sweat of the male opia was a potent intoxicant. They worshipped these gentle creatures as avatars of their god, whose name, roughtly translated into English, can be rendered as "I've Got a Headache THIS Big." On sacred moons, they would strip to their loincloths and creep naked through the forest, singing songs of loving devotion to the creature they called the dreamless one (narcotus reliefis) while smearing mud on their faces and genitalia to show their humility. When they came upon a mature opia, they would throw themselves at its feet, chanting and holding out offerings of green bananas. Nine times out of ten, the opia would kick the valiant warrior in his kidneys. But the tenth time, the noble creature would bend over and offer it armpit to the fortunate