Page 129 of Demons Dig Donuts

Mr. Heiss stayed by the door, but he watched Indy silently like a hawk.

Dill huffed.

Indy glanced back to see Dill standing right behind him and he grinned. “This big guy too.”

The menu clattered loudly.

I AM GLAD YOU ARE ALIVE

BUT HE IS STILL AN ASSHOLE

“Glad to see you’re all right.” Seymour stood beside Sariel with Day up on his shoulder, but he was close enough to affectionately punch Indy’s arm. “Next time, though, maybe don’t go running headfirst into fuckin’ certain death, okay?”

Sariel snorted and Day giggled, but their smiles were fond.

Maybe as if Seymour had done his own running headfirst into certain death before.

“It was clearly a trap,” Lou drawled. “Mr. Mitternacht is desperate to get his hands on that Artifact.”

“But why this one?” Indy wiggled his finger. “Don’t get me wrong. Dill is great, love his girlfriend. Great couple. But there’s all of you—” He gestured to Seymour, Neil, and Lou. “—with your very own Artifact dothingies too. No one is trying to lure you out with your beloved ghost relatives, so what gives?”

“No clue.” Neil frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe it has something to do with the plants? The sampaguita?”

The woman in the rockabilly outfit poked her head out from behind Lou, whispering loudly, “It very well could be.”

“You don’t have to whisper, Myrna. Most of us can hear you.”

Mr. Heiss sighed.

Neil waved. “Myrna, this is Indy. Indy, Myrna.”

There was another loud sigh, and Indy saw the giant hellhound dog thing was sprawled out on the floor in the sunshine.

“That’s Flanders,” Neil said.

“Flanders is not a part of this,” Flanders drawled. “I am here to take a nap in the sunshine and do as little as possible other than judge your putrid choice in footwear.” He tilted his head. “Except Seymour. He gets a pass.”

“Go on,” Lou urged Myrna. “What about the flowers? But please, keep it short.”

“Well!” Myrna stepped forward, smiling brightly. “Sampaguita is a very special flower with magical properties.”

“Eternal love,” Indy said, remembering the lore he’d looked up.

“Very good!” Myrna beamed. “The name is connected to a lovely saying in Tagalong, sumpa kita, which means I promise you. There was once a beautiful woman who fell in love with a handsome hunter, and they made plans to wed—”

“Myrna,” Lou interjected.

“Okay, okay, they both ended up dead and then the flower grew over their graves, or in other versions, it appears on the ground where the lovers first spoke their promises to each other.” Myrna pouted, clearly disappointed that she was not able to finish the story. “Both are very sad and—” She cut herself off before Lou could and quickly continued, “Anyway! The flower is known for its power to protect and for love everlasting.”

“Why would someone want that for a drug?” Seymour wondered out loud. “Make ya’ love it?”

“It is entirely possible they’re using that specific property to make the drug itself extremely addicting, yes.” Myrna nodded. “It might be able to mimic the feeling of being in love, creating a very powerful dependence on this illicit substance.”

“Okay, but what about Dill?” Indy asked.

Dill blinked, pointing to himself curiously.

“Yeah, you, baby.” Indy patted his broad chest. “If this flower already makes people super addicted, what do they need him for?”