Joe Pisces writes

“Oh great C’thulhu. One of my coworkers went fishing last weekend. He brought in one of his catches and cooked it in the communal microwave for his lunch. I feel this justifies some sort of cosmic retribution. Possibly involving years of endless torture set to e Kenny G soundtrack. Can you help smite him for the public good?”

No, Joe.  I do nothing for the public good. Your pleas have displeased me. As far as I can see it, this cow or  ker or whatever farm animal you were speaking of, is doing more to spread the madness and suffering I wish to inflict upon your puny species than most lower lifeforms. His efforts should be praised.

I mean, I’m still going to eat him. I just might give him a tiny thumbs up first.

As  for the microwave itself, have you tried lemon juice? A few months ago I got a bit peckish and I shoved a deep one into the microwave. And, boy, did it stick up the whole city. You’d think those guys have been subsisting on raw sewage and the rotting corpses of sea creatures.  The point is, that smell gets into everything. But, with a bit of lemon juice, some paper towels, and by fashioning a towering obelisk from the defiled bones of the screaming damned I was able to use rendered fat and offal to create a very effective cleaning agent.

Come to think of it, the obelisk may have not been necessary. But it looks so fetching in the garden.

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