“What is the meaning of this?”
“Oh, mighty Aesterorglym!”
“Who said…oh, down there. Another human, is it?”
“Yes, oh ancient wise one! I have performed your ceremony as called for in the Nekropedicon.”
“That’s loaded with typos, but you’re here. Are long purple noses in style among you evanescent scum?”
“Well, no, oh splendid one. I let the incense cook too long in the iguana skull and it got scorched.”
“I hope that accounts for the smell. Well, out with it! What do you want? Incredible riches?”
“That is not my goal, oh potent plague! I seek….”
“World domination? That’s covered in Small Claims, down the wormwarp and third door on your right AND left.”
“That again is not my great wish, great leader of loathsome dreams. I wish merely a brief vision of you aweful radiance at a table at Ahab’s Coffee Shop.”
“If this is just a ploy to get that pumpkin spice stuff early….”
“No no, Your Eldritchness! Nothing so ephemeral as that. I want to impress my girlfriend.”
“Oh, come on! I was in the vivisection lab with a rare Chalsydyan and had just heated the pinking shears when you called, and I had to come out here for…eh?”
“This is a picture of my beloved Strigillia. She is so-o-o-o Goth,”
“Are those platinum eyelid rings?”
“Yes, Mighty Malevolence! She won’t touch silver.”
“I can see by the way it smears that her mascara is of kohl and…hamster blood, is it?”
“She told me it was shrew’s blood.”
“Ah, easy mistake. Well, I understand your desire, just for a change. But there is a toll to be paid…in my service.”
“Tell me what to do, Victorious Vomicant! Nothing is too difficult in the accomplishment of my desires!”
“That’s the spirit. Well, for starters, you’ll need to stop waving your arms around. Thank you, Worm. Now raise your hands above your head and brace them to hold this offerings bowl.”
“Ah!”
“Yes, it is very hot. I should have provided you with gloves, but that’s not really what my sphere is all about. Nonetheless, if you hold it steady, and count from one to one million and seventy-three, nothing will spill.”
“One…two…three….”
“If a single drop tips out of the bowl, you will be scalded to death…in about seven thousand of your years. As you gradually melt, some of the vermin under my carpet—species for which you have names not even in your darkest nightmares—will creep out to see what the screaming is about and begin to inject you with various poisons which will dissolve you from within.”
“Twenty-seven…twenty-eight…twenty-nine….”
“This will take seven seconds fewer than will be required to scald you to infernity, but should keep you entertained in the meantime. Just hold that steady while I fetch my hairbrush.”
“Forty…forty-one…hairbrush? Er, what else did you have….”
“There. The tentacles blow all over everywhere with the screaming in the lab. How do I look?”
“Forty-seven…forty-eight…you are a terror from beyond imagination, oh Mighty One.”
“Good. Now, wait here. I have a date at a coffee shop. What was that name again? Strigillia?”
“Fifty-three…hey, wait! You can’t….”
“Well, you don’t want her to just sit and wait there while you count to a million seventy-three. Her matcha will get cold. Wait. Let me grab those pinking shears. She looks like just the type. Pity you don’t have a hand free to grab your phone. We’d send pictures.”
Blogsy Babbles 