The stench permeated the entire cave. There

Knowing we could not hope to win a battle against such a malevolent entity, we decided to willingly become slaves of the all powerful Baron of Beleaguerment -- B'chugerroth.

B'chugerroth, or B'chuck as we like to call him commanded that we help him enslave the modern masses. So we printed T-shirts with "I'm a slave for B'chuck" and opened a booth at

a Lady Foot Locker. We put on our B'chuggeroth shirts and chanted "He can't be beaten, you'll get eaten!" and "Join B'chuck or else you're

fucked." We marched in a solid line proudly displaying our t-shirts. Shoppers gave us funny looks, but we knew the Old Ones would deal with them shortly. It was only a matter of

how soon and how bloody it would be. I would brown nose those fuckers for as long as I lived. They not only represent a vastly superior evolutionary track, but they are also really

clean back there so it's not too much of an inconvenience. Social skills aside, I soon found myself ingratiated with the local government representatives and thought I might be on

pot. My eyes were red. I was overeating. I felt out of it. I repeated myself a lot. I kept forgetting if I had already told this story. Then I realized, I am not on weed, I'm old

I repeated myself a lot. I kept forgetting if I had already told this story. I repeated myself a lot. I kept forgetting if I had already told this story. Who are you people, where

do you come from? Have I told this before? well screw it. I finish, here, NOW! Goodnight my fellow Parisians.