A casino, a liquor store, a Bureau of Indian Affairs office, a corrupt judge, a BATF operation gone way wrong, and a bewildered FBI investigator trying to understand how the high price of Coca-Cola fits into the other strange goings-on in San Cristobal County ...
“In syncretistic religions, Scully, the attributes of one religious figure,” Mulder taps a case containing a weeping St. Catherine, “are given to another. In this case, John the Baptist’s connections with water: rivers, dunking ...”
“... made him the prime candidate to represent Chac, the Mayan water god.”
“I see. Like a mid-season replacement.”
Mulder glowers. “Now, traditionally, fermented corn mash was used as the sacrament in Mayan ritual, mixed with some magic herbs. A little binge, a little purge, and soon you're seeing visions.”
Scully looks around at the vaguely Catholic ornamentation encrusting the church. “I can’t imagine why.”
“The Spanish must have stopped the magic mushroom part of the ceremony, but you still had the folk belief that to receive the numinous, you had to expel the profane. Hence the burping contest we saw at Mass.”
“And that’s where the Coca-Cola comes in.”
“Yeah. What a racket. No wonder El Jefe owns the bottling plant.” Mulder looks up at a garish mural, Salome being presented with the martyred St. John’s head. Not too many redheads in Spanish colonial religious art.