Fungus heads will psychonaut the world over

Fungus heads will psychonaut the world over on shroom steeds.

"Mush!" commanded Fred Fungushead to Toast, his trusty shroom steed. "We must fly high to Psilocybin and rally the psychonauts before Maria Sabina falters."

The psychedelic furs on Fungushead's shroom steed shimmered like supernovas. He suddenly had an insatiable craving for Moons Over My Hammy. His shroom steed morphed into a Denny's

In Denny's Fungushead started to wail: "Indiauuhh, you're my love song... I'm an American ha ha ha ... Pleasemepleasemepleasemepleasemepleasemepleasemepleasemepleasemepleasemepleas

oohed and aahed at Fungushead's brightly colored scalp. Each mushroom contained a thought. The patrons gingerly picked a dozen and began to dine.

Mushroom #4 was about human induced madness and its discontents. Mushroom #9 was about cows and why they are still sacred. Mushroom #1 was about the futility of war. And so forth.

but now he was here to eat Mushroom #41. It was about answers to the questions you were afraid to ask because you already knew the answer & you didn't want to hear it but just in

case let us burn these unbelievers to put sweet smelling stenches in our god's noses. So they lit up the witches and a stray druid or two and called it just and holy. They all went

to Heaven of course, the Pagans, where they had a jolly good time dancing naked and getting drunk with the Great Whatever and slapping It on the back. It was a far better place.