Mistakes have been made...
And, Almighty in a Man Skin that I am, I am yet fallible. It is with regret, my children, that I must inform you mistakes have been made.
You will recall when last I spoke I had become vexed with the Minions of Mediocrity, none other than McFly. That evening I repaired to my dwelling and set in motion the Divine Retribution that is the Malignant Encrustation.
Summoning forth the Malignant Encrustation is no small thing. For a start, it requires a lot of raw material. Acquisition of this material is not ordinarily an issue – there is a realm of existence made up entirely of snot, another of shit, another of piss and so on...
But for an Almighty in a Man Skin, such as I, the acquiring of such a volume of material becomes a feat in itself. Particularly when one lives with a woman...
I have known lone followers keep stashes of the stuff for their rituals, on the backs of head-boards, on the under-side of chairs... Other, more committed types, keep samples in a range of controlled environments, temperature and humidity levels monitored so that the right tool for the job is always available.
None of this is possible with a woman in the house.
So I had to call my Acolytes to me. And, lo, they did come.
Sadly, such is the season that the raw material they had to offer unto me was not really up to scratch. Cold weather makes for runny noses; the Malignant Encrustation calls for the hard stuff.
Only the foremost of my Acolytes came truly prepared. While the others sniffed, or blew pitiful, sticky stains into handkerchiefs, he drew forth a behemoth from his right nostril and a colossus from his left. He laid them before me and the ritual began.
In situations like this, where the raw material is not sufficient to make the Malignant Encrustation automotive in its own right, a host must be found to deliver the Divine Retribution. And while several of my Acolytes were willing to volunteer, it is not actually necessary to use a living host. So I tore the tusks off a cuddly mammoth I didn’t think my woman was likely to miss and, well, I’m sure you can imagine the rest...
What you might not be able to imagine is that even within a ministry such as my own, a ministry that seeks only to guide your kind to your ultimate actualisation, there are those that think making golems out of snot is little more than a means of acquiring personal power.
So it was with my foremost, sorry, my former foremost Acolyte. His name I have not mentioned, for his name will cease to be an issue soon enough...
But, to continue my gospel, I had drawn forth the Divine Malignancy that drives the Encrustation, I had bound the offerings of my Acolyte to the host I had chosen, and I had awakened the host golem... all that remained was to give the Malignant Encrustation its purpose.
As I drew the greatness of breath that this required, the treachery of my former foremost Acolyte was revealed. For he did sneeze a great gloop of sludge-snot all over my face, into my eyes and my mouth... As I wiped the sticky drips of his ambition from myself, four of the newer Acolytes held me while he seized the Malignant Encrustation and fled.
This was a week ago. Now, my former foremost Acolyte is anathema. Those that were in his thrall soon abandoned him in the face of my wrath. Of course, I have forgiven them. They strive at their penances as I write this.
One more thing. When my woman discovered the discarded tusks from her favourite soft toy, she threw me out of her home. I am now residing with one of the aforementioned penitents.
These are grim times, my children, grim, dark and uncomfortable as far sleeping arrangements go. But I will measure my vengeance against my new foe’s suffering, the limits of which, I can assure you now, only the God of the Unimaginable can fathom... MOCOS!