Adversity

This week could not carry on with such wonder without the intervention of dark forces. When D came to the studio I should have known by his demeanour that all was not right. Brought to a downward spiral by the recession I was not to know that this was but the start. After waking today I walked past the satanists coffee bar in a mist of rain that progressed in to squawly showers. An odour of putrifaction emanated from a doorway where the Evil Artist stood, pontificating to a fellow demonologist on voodoo curses planned for Skreeworld. It was shortly after this that my car, freshly MOTd overheated; the head gasket gone, the top block distorted by dark forces. My spirits were absent, our archangels presumably on duty elsewhere on more important matters. Is this the work of the inbred Fromans who spend their twisted lives in pursuit of the downfall of the holy? Perhaps. Our options are tight. Actions are necessary to thwart the evil rife in this town where the conspiracy of darkness stands at each step in the path of the righteous. This is no laughing matter and no laughter shall be heard when our powers return. Yea, we shall smite thee, we shall skewer the heads of your spawn on pikes and polish the flagstone floors with thine entrails. Tommorrow shall see our response.