"Yes, hospital room, or does this look like an Underworld to you?" This foreign god probably has no idea what Hel looks like, but even he should be able to recognise that this place is much too modern to have sprung from the believes of the old Norse.

"And medicines ... er ... that chemo stuff ... um ..."

"And what's up with that anyway?" Odin interrupts. "A war god does not get sick."

"Eh ... I'm not a war god, remember?" Loki tries to turn it into a word game. "I'm the trickster."

Forseti snorts, but the others are not amused. Thor lunges and Loki is in no shape to duck away. A strong hand grabs his throat and he can't breathe, can't talk. The world starts fading away ...

Behind the gods the door opens, but it isn't Loki's doctor. A small pink animal walks in and asks: "But what about the prairie-dog?"

It's too much. Loki gives in to the darkness expecting to at least be reunited with his daughter, but instead he wakes up in a sweat drenched bed in a hotel room in Lower Tadfield.