This could go somewhere, or it could go absolutely nowhere. This isn’t the usual end-of-the-world repent-ye-sinners bullshit. This is beyond mundane things like bulls and shit. Maybe celestial bulls. I digress.
I have right here, ready to place in your hot little hand, an honest to God copy of the Necronomicon. Now I know what you’re thinking. I see it all over your face, and that’s fine. It’s a good face, a discerning face. It’s the kind of face I like to see. And that expression is the same I had, oh yes, it is the very same. And then I read the book. I read and learned and feared and wept and went a little mad toward the end but that expression of doubt was wiped away. It was smeared clean off by the force of this book. And you my friend, you who found me out, you who, let’s face it, probably shouldn’t spend so much time browsing the M4M section of craigslist in the wee hours, I mean, what’s your wife to think right, you found me out and here’s your prize.
Hurry off, my brother-in-harms. Hurry off and seek out what fortune you may find in what time is left to we frail and worthless husks. The time grows late and later still.
All I ask if for you to read what is written and what is not written. All I ask is for you to pass along the dark glory and the bleak might of our coming destroyer. All I ask is the twenty dollars we agreed on for the treble-BJ. Only the knowledge is free.