View source for No one there expected what was about to go down

The screams... sreeches...of insane bansees...as if the dead furs around their wrinkled throats came to life in death throws...eternally wailing their skinned death...the lifeless afterlife of these dry old money whores. Fat human swine slipping in blood and climbing over dead bodies to escape...eyes wide in horror! Grey blurs...and fountains of blood. gutterual gagging gasps. the finest fashions stained in thier blue blood...really more like a sick purple or the mauve color of the junkie reprobate chaos magickians who worshiped cuthulu on the slimy docks of godless oblivion in the early 1900's under kenny grant. Tails flicker...to the squrilles this is a ball room dance...a percision movement to [[Little wererabbit eats guts|the pigs]]...it is a gray blur like Humboldt Fog...something to walk in fer sure if you are fearless... but to the pigs...the Hand...this is nothing more that a gaging drowning... a torrent of torment...sick spins...vomit mixes with the blood as the toughest survivors fight and die...overwhealmed emotionally, physically, and sexually. Four bushy gray tails wag furiously at the throat of a particularly violent texan fella... The idea of being killed by squirells was just too much for him and he went into one of those state describes in the intro to the old The Hulk TV show in the 70's...if you are cointellpro you can relate to the PCP training you got in the late '80's. The surgeons were helpless, even at the finest hospitals, the jaggeed wounds and deep destruction of the eyes and livers of the patients rendered it impossible to save even one of the individuals who attended this event. 

[[Category: Pineal Traffic]]