The morning of the Festival of Quetzalcoatl has again arrived, and the Jungle looms over Tenochtitlan, expectant of the offering that Aztlan and its people owe to the Feathered God.
Prinz von Perzien seems stunned and has remained silent all through the night. Perhaps the sight of the new Monument, awaiting its first spill of blood for Quetzalcoatl, has tied his tongue forever.
Ipalnemoani arrives at the Capital to request an audience of the Tlatoani. As the servants lead him to the inner chambers of the Palace, he rehearses his little speech, perhaps for the thousandth time. The doors of the chamber open, and he sees the Tlatoani in all his glory, with a shiny new black axe in his hands.
"Ipalnemoani, I knew you would come. Say what you have to say, and hear me in return," Cuautlequetzqui says in a commanding voice that leaves his authority in no need of reminders.
"Ahem... O High and Mighty Tlatoani, Exalted Supreme God of Aztlan... Hear the plea of a lowly peasant. My ancestor was sacrificed to Tlaloc in the recent past by the slave of yours, Prinz von Perzien. I shall not have peace in my mind until I have reached final retribution with his house. As he is the only living member... I would like to sacrifice him to Quetzalcoatl. Please let me do this, as you undoubtedly would offer him to the Feathered God anyway."
Cuautlequetzqui lowers his eyes, then raises both his arms. His headdress shines in the morning light that floods the chambers through a window behind him. The obsidian axe glistens expectantly. "Hear me now and understand. The blood of Prinz von Perzien shall be spilled, and his head shall roll down the steps of the Palace Pyramid. I shall give Ipalnemoani the ownership of Prinz von Perzien, on the condition that he will give me his firstborn to toil for me in return. Then you shall do what you must, and do it ASAP. That is, as soon as possible. I know it shall be a while before you choose to procreate. But, once it is done, I shall claim what is mine!"
Handing Ipalnemoani the great axe, Cuautlequetzqui bids him farewell and retreats to meditate on the improvements required in the Capital. Ipalnemoani backs off on all fours, clutching the axe, but before he is out the door, Cuautlequetzqui calls out: "Oh, one more thing..."
Ipalnemoani, his eyes large as saucers to gather the dripping sweat from his forehead, trembles in fearful expectation...
"...servants, bring the slave Prinz von Perzien to Ipalnemoani, will you?"
