So, you know how it feels when you bail out of your plane over the Himalayas and make your way to a village in northern India where the poor villagers believe you have been sent by Shiva to retrieve a sacred stone, along with the village children, from evil forces in the nearby Pankot Palace? And you are welcomed into the aforementioned Palace, where you partake of a bountiful but grotesque banquet hosted by the young Maharaja, and later are attacked by an assassin whom you suspect may belong to the ancient Thuggee cult before you discover a series of tunnels lined with booby traps that bring you to an underground temple where the Thugs worship Kali with human sacrifice that involves ripping a person’s heart out from their chest and/or lowering them encased in a horrific metal cage into a ceremonial fire pit? And then you’re discovered, whipped and forced to drink a potion called the Blood of Kali, which places you in a trance-like state where you mindlessly serve the Thugs? Then you’re burned with a torch, which shocks you out of your trance and you manage to escape to a rope bridge high above a crocodile-infested river but then are cornered by the high priest Mola Ram and you have to cut the rope bridge in half so that everyone has to hang on for their lives and you can save yourself?
And all you can think about is how, for the rest of your life although the Thuggees didn’t rip your heart out of your chest they may as well have, given the pain that has arced through the beating muscle and taken up residence in those four hollow chambers? You know how that feels, right?
Yeah, me too.