Turdzilla

After buggering Greggory Mathers And decrypting the Greater and Lesser key I put my pants back on, grabbed my wand (rainbow) because, I bottom thoroughly. I trudged through sleet just to meet The reclusive Mr. Crowley, but he had taste, too much to waste, on the New Age peristalsis coiling inside o' me. I bumped into Rasputin, by the time I was tootin', but he merely twirled at his beard. At this point I was sure that I had to cure this stench that I'd come to fear. So I hunkered on down, in chalk symbol with frown, and chanted 'till sweat poured from my face. I spoke in Mad Arab, begged my magical scarab, to spare my rear orifice. Twas at the stroke of midnight that I realized my plight was more than this Wiccan could bare. When out tore a demonic flotilla known as Turdzilla; as my rectum let loose with a tear.