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Orcus sat on his throne
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contemplating what evils to unleash
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upon the weak and innocent.
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He mused, scratching his belly,
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and summoned his revenant minion
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"yessss masther, how ssserve I?"
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whispered the obsequious undead monstrosity
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rasping through yellow tangled teeth
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"Fetch me my experimenting hat!"
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"Right away, your Infernalneth," said
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the unholy undead commander Asnek.
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Moments later when he returned,
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Orcus was eating a pie.
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A potpie of meeping ghouls.
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Bring forth my wand sluggards
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lest ye feel the sting
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of the whip, before you
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die at my wand's touch!
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A multitude of skittering forms
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arose from the depths of
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a dark pit, with craggy
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faces contorted in abject terror
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, yet ready to fulfill Orcus'
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every desire. Orcus giggled girlishly
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, an unseemly falsetto cackling, and
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, with a sweeping gesture, directed
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his corpselike lackeys on to
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tear the buried wand from
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it's ensconcement in the thorax
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of Thanshakot, an impaled Atropal.
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A riot of twitching, tugging
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undead fiends fed like maggots
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around the beleaguered Atropal, and
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a sickening bubble of corruption
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burst, sending forth a sea
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of a funksome yeasty venom,
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and the very prize itself.
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The skull-capped wand pulsed
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in life suckling hues of
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sickly eerie green and radiated
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malign promises of eternal shadow.
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Asnek cringed before its power,
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but his master's command echoed
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in his hollow pate, imploring
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him-- crash through the Gate
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so he plunged through, to
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find himself in the midst
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of a pentagram in blood
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in the Atropal's chest cavity
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where foul energies pulsed and
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