The inhabitants of Salmonella City had never met talking food before. A god!

"All bow down to the talking-food-god, the almighty Yah-Wich!" shouted the nearest and largest germ.

The germs all cheered in ecstasy and prostated themselves in front of their saviour.

"Guide us to the promised land, oh mighty one," one of the germs called out.

"Yes, guide us!" the others shouted, taking up the chant.

The intestine inspector held up his hands and the germs' chant died down. Silence filled the stomach as the expectant germs awaited commands from their messiah. Finally, when the anticipation was so great that Bob was about to vomit, Intestine-Inspector-Man spoke:

"The Digestive Tract, my people. To the Digestive Tract!" his mighty voice boomed throughout the stomach. He pointed downwards.

The audience erupted into cheers, as ladies and germs began diving into the roiling sea of stomach acid all around them. The intestine inspector took his pocket-sized Pod-o-Matic out of his pocket, pulled the string to expand it, got in, and plunged into the stomach acid with them.