User blog comment:HumboldtLycanthrope/The Collaborative Cliche Pasta/@comment-24101790-20150307044417/@comment-26030957-20150309202141

When Mikey awoke he couldn’t move and could barely see. He realized he was bound and that he was still wearing the Mickey Mouse head. He could hear chanting in the distance: deep, baritone voices invoking demons. Demonicus. Beelzebubicus. Satanicus. Cthulhumongus. Squinting through the mask’s eyeholes he could just make out a circle of acolytes dressed in long black cloaks, gathered in a circle about him. Some held torches, others daggers, wands and goblets. A morbidly obese woman, drenched in what looked like blood, writhed and danced near him, a massive python wrapped about her body, the blood glistening in the torch light. Now this was some fucked up shit and Mikey was scared. So scared he would have shit himself if he hadn’t already done it twice before, so he threw-up. A cloaked figured approached him. But this one wore a scarlet cloak, different then all the others, with a silver inverted pentagram emblazoned on the back. He began to speak in a loud voice that filled the dark void. “We the order of the Bad Witchy Satanists and Headbanger Society of Our Lady of Creepiness and Heavy Metal do offer up this sacrifice so that the dark lord Cthulhu will heed our calls for vengeance on an unjust world and rise from his watery sleep to wreak havoc on this planet!” With that the figure in the crimson robes raised his dagger above Mikey, foul curses spurting from his mouth. “From the blackest well of incestual mothers and Jeff the Killer girl fans, from the poisoned springs of Hades where infants once were hung by The Slender Man,….” “Now this shit is really, really, fucked up,” thought Mikey, and this time he shit himself and threw up. Oh yeah, and the hair on his neck rose up and he felt all creepy and scared and stuff.