JJeers and guttural howls echo from a smoky cave, where a tribe of Neanderthals gathers for yet another riveting episode of "Who Wants to Be the Next Tribal Idiot?" These knuckle-dragging caricatures - complete with sloped foreheads, bulging muscles, and the kind of vacant stare that screams "thinking hurts" - are locked in a heated debate between two leaders.

On one side stands Majorg Gengog, a buxom Neanderthal goddess in the eyes of the tribe, with bleached blonde hair (how? Don't ask) and a blood-smeared club proudly labeled MAGOG - a sacred tribute to Trumtarg, the great sky god of deception and questionable hair choices.

Beside her stands an evolutionary overachiever - an early Homo sapien who, against all odds, has developed the radical ability to think. Unfortunately, this makes him deeply unpopular. He dares to point out that the sacred berry Majorg is flaunting is - gasp - poisonous. But the crowd isn't here for facts. They're here for drama, tribal theater, and club-swinging nonsense.

Majorg, with all the subtlety of a drunk mammoth, waves the deadly berry in front of a crude cave painting of fire, proclaiming that it grants "divine protection" from the flames. The crowd roars in approval, because of course they do. Meanwhile, an actual wildfire is turning the surrounding forest into a prehistoric BBQ pit, but who needs science when you have faith in fruit?

With a theatrical finger-slice across her neck, Majorg orders the execution of her Homo sapien rival. The mob, wielding clubs and rocks and a violent enthusiasm for dumb ideas, obliges. Once he's suitably bludgeoned, they hoist Majorg high and declare her Queen of the Burning Idiots.

Then comes the grand finale.

With a royal gesture, Majorg commands her loyal morons to eat the berries. They do so gleefully - because nothing says leadership like mass poisoning. Moments later, they clutch their bellies, groan in ecstatic agony, and charge heroically into the raging inferno outside, convinced they are immune to fire. Spoiler alert: they are not.

Thus ends the tragic tale of Majorg and her flaming fan club - devoured by berries, consumed by flames, and remembered as a cautionary tale for all creatures who think charisma can substitute for common sense.