hallucination of eldritch
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hallucination of eldritch
horror, the likes
of which no
man could see
without going maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!
No such luck,"
was the sad
reply from the
wizened old coot
in the black
trenchcoat who sat
atop the stegosaurus
(gingerly, of course)
and who now
dismounted with a
rather casual air.
Everyone gaped. The
end had seemed
to have arrived,
and yet all
the same, it
just never came.
Meanwhile, on Rigel III,
Nigel of Rigel
sighed wistfully as
Art of Arcturus
walked on by.
Art pretended not
to see the
iridescent eyes of
his greatest admirer
aglow, instead turning
both his heads
towards the moons
that circled above,
their multiringed glory
ineffably beautiful. He
was suddenly inspired
to sit down
and proposition Nigel.
"Nigel, I want
(and by 'want'
you know I
mean 'demand'), your
alien booty immediately!"
Nigel, frightened yet
undeniably aroused, paused
for a moment
while he distractedly
adjusted his junk.