Sorry for blowing smoke
on your ego…
it’s time for the long trek.

You’ll feel unworthy, shameful,
repulsive memories will haunt you —
you must go past
the chasm of madness,
with no guardrail to protect you.

Yes! Those are banana peels
& blobs of grease
around the edge of the abyss.

Yes! Those are vipers
wiggling below.

Yes! Those are demons’ tails
sticking out.

Yes! This isn’t California
any more…
you’re now in the original Down Under.

Hungry? You may eat all you want,
any time you want,
the dish of the day is
chicken McMaggots, with special sauce.

(Accordions play
The Dance of the Seven Regrets…)

I’m so sorry,
I should’ve, I would’ve…
sorry, sorry, sorry…

-Lucifer apologizes
for not being here
to greet you personally.

-If you’re wondering what that slimy,
sickening green stuff
oozing from the floor is,
those are the liquified souls
of carefully selected sinners.

‘This is Tom Burnwell,
for Motel 666…
we’ll leave the flames on for you.’

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