"The native Incan grows tiresome of routinely slaughtering captives tied to alters, carving out the heart from their flesh in order to satiate the bloodlust of the sun. This honey glazed maiden yearns for something more, for an auburn haired, cerulean eyed, dashing swashbuckler to venture forth into her isle, slaughter the menfolk with a barrage of lead and then copulate the nubile female survivors, filling this primal land with Mestizo's, remnants of the European altruists who graced this barbaric lineage with their noble genetics. Your dreams shall persist no more Pochanata, for the day will soon emerge when these fantastical illusions morph into reality."