[Mitch]

Downhill sissyfuss, etching questions into ripped up bits of papyrus ignited with ignition switch wine house ritual's pinnacle pentagram ingrediant, even interface speaking through a medium of tin embrace to kindle faith In wintered plains, oblivian the witches tame, sweeping up your kin's remains, reanimation chants assail the ravens' simultaneous screech; a tantric tale of familys turned from kindred antler prancers to cannibal herds that can't just feast, they dance, revering phantom beasts for cancer cures they can't repeat if the cancer returns. The damned are eaten, with samples reserved in tin cans in a freezer, ample reserves are uncommon as mankind decreased it's own populace, planned by the teachers of a forgotten philosophies panel of leaders that had throttled economy's standards to zero, in honor of prophecy handed through Nero, Ghandi, Mohammed, Nastrodamus, A Sandy Beach Assailant, or Neo... From the matrix. Yay! FIN! Now say this Fishy fishy in the dish, "Thanks, Mitch. Great shit!"