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Nyarlathotep…the crawling chaos…I am the last…I will tell the audient void…

It was many years ago, I can’t remember how many exactly, I was working as a bouncer at a Space Disco orbiting a comet named Shigeru Miyamoto. The pay was pretty good, but the main reason I was keeping the job was because my uncle was running the place. He was using it as a front for his Mah-jong League, which ran every Tuesday and Thursday. Now, this was during the Imperial Simulacrum – you know, when Jagar Tharn controlled the Empire by posing as Patrick Stewart – and Mah-jong was illegal. However, it was too fun a game not to play, so my uncle started a Space Disco, under the Space Disco Foundation Plan – an Imperial program whose solitary goal was the establishment of over 1200 Space Discos within four years, an objective that was only narrowly achieved.

This was after the time, in the year 1479 Dalereckoning, the Year of the Ageless One, a young Greek man – possibly Macedonian, though my ability to identify the nationality of individuals has worsened considerably since the Curse of the Magi was placed on me – came to the Space Disco wearing nothing but Naruto cosplay. He called himself Plato, and by the look in his eyes I knew he was trouble. He came rolling up in a solid gold Honda Civic, and got out of the car flanked by two Sahuagin, or maybe they were just Persian – I can’t possibly remember. Anyway, the man called Plato approached me and immediately started a fist-fight with me. Thankfully, Samuel L. Jackson and Civ V Gandhi were there and they handily defeated Plato and his Sahuagin buddies. I hoped that was the last I’d ever see of Plato.

You would think it was, but it wasn’t. A couple months passed and I began to feel lethargic. At first I thought I contracted an STD from one of the many desperate young women who believed by sleeping with a bouncer they’d earn “street cred” or some such nonsense. I went to my physician, Dr.Zaius. He said I’d been poisoned by a very rare toxin present only in the venom sacs of a rare jungle spider. I was puzzled at first, but soon remembered that during the fight I was in months prior with Plato, that he pulled out the mythical Amulet of His Imperial Excellence Moshe XVII, who ruled Upper Israel from the years 1068 DR to the year 1297 DR, when the birth of the legendary drow ranger (you know his name) caused Upper Israel to sink back into the Sea of Puppies, from whence it came.

Lo, the Amulet had originally been crafted in the Gulg Volcano, and presented to the Sultan of New York in the year 3 DR as a gift from Winston Wolf, 1st Baronet of Inglewood. The Amulet was capable of summoning 1d4+1+(User’s level) spiders per day. It was a great artifact, but nothing compared to the Staff of the Shimmering Eagle – a six-foot vibrating rod shaped like a Vienna sausage crafted in the depths of the Moon of Skywatch six years prior to the foundation of New York by immigrants fleeing the Battle of Notre Dame, the penultimate skirmish in the Eugenics Wars made popular in common human consciousness in the hit episode of Star Trek: Space Seed, which incidentally proved the inspiration for both the Wrath of Khan and, later, Into Darkness.

Every day, it was hoped that the Staff of the Shimmering Eagle would bring peace to the Nine Kingdoms. Alas it did not, and there were many wars present in the Era lasting from the Accord of the Seven Thanes, to the end of the Second War of the Ring – which pitted the Ivalician Deserters against Leeds United Football Club (196😎 in a media contest that sucked half the known Pegasus Galaxy into a black hole that would later be elected 1st President of eIceland, which will be added – you aren’t really reading all this, are you? If you are, and you see this, comment the words "Hail Pacifica, Makoto-san". If you’re the first you’ll win 1 gold. Scout’s honour –at least according to the ghost of the mailman of one of the player moderators – sometime in the coming years, but a fortnight before the Great Cataclysm, an event that will be explained later.

Returning to the germane issue of the plot, let me take some time to explain the origins of the colour purple – so that you may understand the reason King Urist von Mannheim dueled Plato…no I haven’t mentioned that yet. Perhaps it’s time. You see, the Amulet aforementioned – which is the source of the vicious poisoning diagnose in me by the pre-eminent Dr. Zaius – was awarded to Plato as a friendly token of honour by the late King Urist von Mannheim, thirty-seventh such king of the great nation of Mos Eisley VI, a narrow band of rivers that collectively formed the shape of a rock dove – more commonly referred to as the pigeon – during a duel.

Pardon me for stating this, but it was such a lame duel that it bears no repeating here. Needless to say that Plato won the duel, which was a result of clever use of a blue/black mill deck, against King Urist von Mannheim – whom I’ve mentioned earlier was the thirty-seventh king of the great nation of Mos Eisley VI – who relied heavily on purchasing the most valuable cards he could get his greedy, rich-boy hands on. Did I mention he had four, count ‘em, four of the legendary Black Lotus cards in his deck?!

Aye, ‘tis true, and the collective value of all four cards was twenty-four thousand current United States Dollars. For perspective, let’s take a look at the price of a Whopper – which according to the Indiana Memorial Union – is worth $2.39 (or rather two dollars and thirty-nine cents). When divided out, four Black Lotuses – which I must remind you are collectively worth twenty-four thousand United States dollars – are worth the equivalent of over ten-thousand and forty-one Whoppers. This would feed a family of four nothing but burgers for over two and a quarter years. This was but a small fraction of the deck used by King Urist von Mannheim, thirty-seventh leader of the great nation of Mos Eisley VI.

Little did Plato know the Amulet’s power, which again was to spiders capable of unleashing a toxin that, for me, created great lethargy several months after a skirmish between him, his Sahuagin (or possibly Persian) friends; against Samuel L. Jackson, Civ V Gandhi, and myself in a Space Disco owned by my uncle as a front for his Mah-jong League created during the Imperial Simulacrum, was too great for even the greatest wizards to contain. - So if you found the above secret, write it in the comment below for the 1g prize, but also say "Coconut 56" underneath that line to earn 2 gold instead of one. Each summoning of the 1d4+1+(User’s level) spiders cost a small sliver of the user’s soul. This in turn made the user evil, demonic even, and hungry for the one thing demons cannot help but love to eat: Euros.

Misery loves company, this is a common English idiom that represents the common state of sadness that accompanies one member of a social group’s sudden departure into the realm of Depression (which itself was a lost kingdom once dedicated its fealty to the Crown of Castile and Aragon, once the greatest empire in the world before England proved itself a greater naval power somehow – though how they defeated the Spanish Armada in that fateful fight is to this very day, despite the centuries I have spent researching European history; under the guise that it would better help me devise a better weapon of mass destruction to be shipped to Iraq in the early 21st century in order to justify the War in Iraq.

Ex sexu est invidia

R’lyeh: "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn"