'Yes!'
'I never worry about that --ing stuff.'
'Never?'
'Never --ing give it a thought. I've got my potato.'
Then Mr Tulip found that he'd walked a few feet alone, because Mr Pin had stopped dead.
'Potato?'
'Oh, yeah. Keep it on a string round my neck.' Mr Tulip tapped his huge chest.
'And that's religious?'
'Well, yeah. If you've got your potato when you die, everything will be okay.'
'What religion is that?'
'Dunno. Never ran across it outside our village. I was only a kid. I mean, it's like gods, right? When you're a kid, they say "that's God, that is". Then you grow up and you find there's --ing millions of 'em. Same with religion.'
'And it's all okay if you have a potato when you die?'
'Yep. You're allowed to come back and have another life.'
'Even if...' Mr Pin swallowed, for he was in territory which had never before existed on his internal atlas, '... even if you've done things which people might think were bad?'
'Like chopping up people and --ing shovin' 'em off cliffs?'
'Yeah, that kind of thing
Mr Tulip sniffed, causing his nose to flash. 'We-ell, it's okay so long as you're really --ing sorry about it.'
Mr Pin was amazed, and a little suspicious. But he could feel things... catching up. There were faces in the darkness and voices on the cusp of hearing. He dared not turn his head now, in case he saw anything behind him.
You could buy a sack of potatoes for a dollar.
'It works?' he said.
'Sure. Back home people'd been doing it for hundreds of --ing years. They wouldn't be doing it if it didn't --ing work, would they?'
'Where was that?'
Mr Tulip tried to concentrate on this question, but there were many scabs in his memory.
There was... forests,' he said. 'And... bright candles,' he muttered. 'An'... secrets,' he added, staring into nothing.
'And potatoes?'
Mr Tulip came back to the here and now.
'Yeah, them,' he said. 'Always lots of --ing potatoes. If you've got your potato, it will be all right.'
'But... I thought you had to pray in deserts and go to a temple every day, and sing songs, and give stuff to the poor... ?'
'Oh, you can do all that too, sure,' said Mr Tulip. 'Just so long as you've got your --ing potato.'
'And you come back alive?' said Mr Pin, still trying to find the small print.