cellent—you’re being encoffined alive.” Within a few moments the three of them were wrapped up, and lacquer was then sent for. The Immortals quickly fetched some lacquer that they had tapped and dried themselves, with which they painted the three bandaged bodies all over except for the heads.

“Never mind about our heads, sir,” said Pig, “but please leave us a hole at the bottom to shit through.”

The Great Immortal then sent for a huge cauldron, at which Monkey said with a laugh, “You’re in luck, Pig. I think they must have brought the cauldron out to cook us some rice in.”

“Fine,” said Pig, “I hope they give us some rice first—we’ll make much better-looking ghosts if we die with our bellies full.”

The Immortals carried out the large cauldron and put it under the steps, and the Great Immortal called for dry wood to be stacked up round it and set ablaze. “Ladle it full of pure oil,” he commanded, “and when it is hot enough to bubble, deep-fry Monkey in it to pay me back for my manfruit.”

Monkey was secretly delighted to hear this. “This is just what I want,” He thought. “I haven’t had a bath for ages, and my skin’s getting rather itchy. I’d thoroughly appreciate a hot bath.” Very soon the oil was bubbling and Monkey was having reservations: he was afraid that the Immortal’s magic might be hard for him to fathom, and that at first he might be unable to use his limbs in the cauldron. Hastily looking around him, he saw that there was a sundial to the East of the dais and a stone lion to the West. Monkey rolled towards it with a spring, bit off the end of his tongue, spurted blood all over the stone lion, and shouted “Change,” at which it turned into his own image, tied up in a bundle like himself. Then he extracted his spirit and went up into the clouds, from where he looked down at the Taoists.

It was just at this moment that the junior Immortals reported, “The oil’s boiling hard.”

“Carry Monkey down to it,” the Great Immortal ordered, but when four of them tried to pick him up they could not. Eight then tried and failed, and four more made no difference. “This earth-infatuated ape is immovable,” they said. “He may be small, but he’s very solid.” Twelve junior Immortals were then told to pick him up with the aid of carrying-poles, and when they threw him in there was a loud crash as drops of oil splashed about, raising blisters all over the junior Immortals’ faces. “There’s a hole in the cauldron—it’s started leaking,” the scalded Immortals cried, but before the words were out of their mouths the oil had all run out through the broken bottom of the cauldron. They realized that they had thrown a stone lion into it.

“Damn that ape for his insolence,” said the Great Immortal in a terrible rage. “How dare he play his tricks in my presence! I don’t mind so much about your getting away, but how dare you wreck my cauldron? It’s useless trying to catch him, and even if you could it would be like grinding mercury out of sand, or trying to hold a shadow or the wind. Forget about him, let him go. Untie Tang Sanzang instead and fetch another pot. We can fry him to avenge the destruction of the tree.” The junior Immortals set to and began to tear off Sanzang’s lacquered bandages.

Monkey could hear all this clearly from mid-air. “The master will be done for,” he thought. “If he goes into that cauldron it’ll kill him. Then he’ll be cooked, and after four or five fryings he’ll be eaten as a really tender piece of monk. I must go back down and save him.” The splendid Great Sage brought his cloud down to land, clasped his hands in front of him, and said, “Don’t spoil the lacquered bands, and don’t fry my master. Put me in the cauldron of oil instead.”

“I’ll get you, you baboon,” raged the Great Immortal in astonishment. “Why did you use one of your tricks to smash my cooking pot?”

“You must expect to be smashed up if you meet me—and what business is it of mine anyhow? I was going to accept your kind offer of some hot oil, but I was desperate for a shit and a piss, and if I’d done them in your cauldron, I’d have spoilt your oil and your food wouldn’t have tasted right. Now I’ve done my stuff I’m ready for the cauldron. Please fry me instead of my master.” The Great Immortal laughed coldly, came out of the hall, and seized him.

If you don’t know how the story goes or how he escaped, listen to the explanation in the next installment.