The fourteenth Cimrman play takes us to the heart of a continent almost untouched by civilization. Czech travelers encounter a strange tribe of cannibals and almost end up on their menu. The members of this tribe are unusual in two ways: their appearance and their extraordinary docility. These characteristics enabled Cimrman to solve linguistic and staging problems with an elegance that other world playwrights can only envy. If, say, G. B. Shaw had tackled such a theme, the audience would have spent 5 to 7 hours in the auditorium. Cimrman managed to do it in just one hour (not counting the introductory scientific seminar). For the first time in the history of the Jára Cimrman Theater, a live animal appears on stage.

Cimrman sees the reason for the popularity of the Blanik legend in Bohemia mainly in the geographical location of our homeland. In agreement with Palacký, he was aware that "we are here in Europe like a grain between two millstones. From the west, German imperialism presses upon us, and from the east, the expansionism of the Great Russian colossus crushes us. It is no wonder that a small nation under such pressure seeks supernatural and even miraculous protection, for only a miracle can enable it to survive here."

Jára Cimrman in the whirlwind of the past forty years, as discovered, recorded, and brought to life by the theater.

A well-known writer now aged 75 is aware of his increasing age and the risk that his literary style will grow worn. His everyday existence is enlivened by characters from his stories, who tend to enter reality in unexpected ways, at various stages of completeness and with all kinds of strange demands.