Nov 3, 2004
Yesterday seems so far away now. Our parallel universes almost hooked up last night, but the red (state) necromancers in their Ohio caves and Florida castles of grimly balanced coral summoned the Ancient Ones from the dark places between the stars, and the Elder Gods from their cyclopean towers in Ry'leh, and Great Cthulu from his watery bed, and they drove away the normal yet empty universe, the one where Gore sits enthroned, alone and beardless, and they sent it spinning back into the black Chaos from whence they themselves were spat 32 years ago.
But the Ancient Ones and the Elder Gods, and indeed, Great Cthulu, make poor servants and dangerous allies. They will demand payment. And if the red (state) necromancers, in their arrogance and their folly, are late with their tribute, they will be devoured by their own magic. The black Chaos will return for them. From It, they cannot hide. Against It, their spells are as nought. And they shall be left soulless and howling for a thousand years.
Or so we can all hope.
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