About

When in the course of human events it had become necessary for bored people to burn off fractions of the cognitive surplus in order to keep themselves from burning down very real buildings, Somethingevil sprang full-grown like a parasitic bloodlizard from the forehead of Paradox. The rest of us noticed it there, laying in a pool of blood and brain-birth fluid, amniotic sacs strewn about like spare socks, and we saw that it was good. And pretty gross.

Ever since, we’ve been tending said parasitic bloodlizard like a retarded, family pet. It stinks. It’s mean most of the time. It has a really bad habit of dry-humping your ankle while shooting torrents of red jism from its eyes. But sometimes, when you least expect it, Somethingevil will crawl down the pants of one of your sleeping enemies and work hideous spine-magic on his/her genitalia. Really nasty stuff. I’m serious. Picture polish sausage inside the Large Hadron Collider, and you’ll start to get the picture.

So we continue to feed it. And it sticks around, more or less. Look down. It’s probably slow-grinding your ankle right now. Whatever you do, don’t interrupt. For the love of god, do not interrupt.

But don’t let the bloodlizard bother you. After all, where we’re from, there’s always music in the air: