Treasure
Staring up into the crazed pathological eyes of the beautiful but terrifying tribeswoman sitting astride him, the staked out Frank was struggling to appreciate the wisdom of Earl’s money-making South American adventure. With the sharp blade of the warrioress’ machete coming ever closer to his face and his buddy nowhere to be seen, at this point, Frank would have settled for a one way ticket out of Colombia and back to the States.
“Where is your buried treasure, white man?” came the dark voice of the vampiric looking female who had him at her mercy while the other tribeswomen who had captured him looked on with almost ironic smiles on their lips. “We know you have hidden it somewhere in our lands.” Despite his predicament, Frank squinted his eyes to look up at his captor with incredulity. “I think you are barking up the wrong tree, sweetheart!” he replied in some confusion. “We have come to the jungle to ask you cuties the wheabouts of Cortes’ gold!” As the woman’s brow furrowed and the leopard skin-clad women surrounding the pair began to chatter to each other, Frank was not sure whether he had just saved his own life or if he had doomed himself…
My interpretation of the story behind this illustration from a 1960s men’s magazine, which I currently cannot source.
