Hello there everybody! Satan here! Welcome to the latest edition of this fledgling newsletter! To those of you that are 'in a position' to peruse this little update -- well, who the fuck's torturing you?!? Ha ha! But maybe your demon 'nanny' thinks my jokes are torture enough! I'm kidding, of course. If that's really the case, that upstart's gonna have his own choad compressed in a vise REAL soon. But anyway, let's get down to business:
Okey Dokey. Apparently, ancient documents have recently come to light that alter some time-honored assumptions about Yours Truly. Don't worry – it's nothing that's gonna change my status in the universe, or
for that matter yours. I'm still the 'ol rebel angel, cast down into the abyss for asking questions, for being fucking inquisitive, since that's apparently the most dire of sins. But let's not get into that again! Anyway – it appears that an ancient copy of Revelations has been uncovered, and one of the things that has been revealed is that The Number of the Beast (not the Iron Maiden song, I mean the actual number, though of course the song is referring to the number) is not, in fact, 666, but is actually 616. I am totally not shitting you guys on this! Like I've already said, this change will have absolutely no effect on the immensity of your agony down here. But it should generate considerable headaches in the temporal realm (how fitting!), for which I can sorta take credit for -- a freebie! Many album covers, for instance, are gonna have to be updated. I'm sure there will be considerable opposition to this at first, but once it sinks in that 616 is The Number of the Beast, everyone's gonna have to make the adjustment. I mean, that's what it is now. 616. That's all there is to it. Sure it's not as 'cool', or linear or whatever, but there's no dancing around this, people! I expect Satanists to make an immediate adjustment. I would also expect to have the entire Omen movie series updated with the proper number. With the latest computer technology, this shouldn't be too big a pain in the ass. I think the first Exorcist dodges the whole 666 thing, so it's probably OK, though at least a few of them shitty-ass sequels are gonna need fixin'. If any of you damned can remember what other flicks, books and whatnot need revising, please do let me know! I'll give you a few seconds of painlessness in return (though of course that'll only give contrast to the totality of your agony). 616. The Number of the Beast. If I hear you say different, you're going right into my anus.
This here is Phineas Medulla, and he hailed from Des Moines, Iowa. He comes to us by way of a freakish accident involving an electric-powered Jenna Jameson head that suffered a serious malfunction, not only electrocuting him, but also viciously gnawing off his Johnson at the same time! Youch! You curious types down here are in the unique position of being able to ask Phineas which was worse!
Phineas was actually rather of a bastard during his time on earth – obviously! As a young lad he liked to kill animals and terrorize other children; as an adult, these tendencies translated into hunting endangered species and climbing the corporate ladder with hobnailed boots, crushing all in his path! He also had this weird thing where he couldn't help laughing when he saw images of starving children. Oh, and he also strangled several male prostitutes during a business-trip to Argentina. That may have been the clincher. But, in his favor, he is also an accomplished artist! So from now on we'll be including his fun little comic 'OHFUCKI'MINHELL', in this very newsletter! See his first installment at the end of this issue!
3.Threats of Great Evil
OK. Here we go: OH PITEOUS DAMNED, I GIVE YOU SWEET TIDINGS OF WOE, A GOLDEN SHOWER CONJOINED WITH A RANK STEAMING AVALANCHE OF TERPITUDE FROM THE NETHER-SPOUTS OF MY UNHOLY HIDDEN WORKINGS! BRACE YOURSELVES FOR MY VISCOUS GIFT, TURN YOUR HEADS TOWARDS IT, FOR THERE IS NO ESCAPE! YOU HAVE GONE OVER THE FEDERLINE INTO THE REALM OF THE FORGOTTEN, WHERE THE DOOR SWINGS IN BUT NOT OUT! YES! LIKE ENRON EMPLOYEES YOUR SINS HAVE BEEN RECORDED! LIKE PARIS HILTON YOUR INEPTITUDE IS ON RECORD, YOUR BAD FELLATIO-TECHNIQUE VIEWED BY THE JUDGING EYES OF THE UNIVERSE, LIKE THOSE BIG OLD PEOPLE HEADS IN SUPERMAN! VERILY, YOUR SINFUL ASCENSION TO MONEY AND FAME AT THE EXPENSE OF OTHERS IS BUT THE LADDER BEFORE THE CHUTE! NOW FEEL OUR MULE LOG OF EXCREMENT CLOUT YOU FULL ACROSS YOUR BOTOXED FACE! EMBRACE OUR CLIVE BARKERISH (BEFORE HE SWITCHED TO CRAPPY FANTASY STUFF) HORRORS! YES ... UH ... LEAN INTO OUR ... COCK SLAP ... OF HORSE-LIKE PROPORTIONS! REVERBERATE WITH OUR ... OUR HIDEOUS EMO MUSIC! AND STUFF! OK then! Until next time, my damned! Love ya!
