Nestled deep in my lair, my minions and I prepared the ritual to bind and control a daemonic entity in the flesh of the dead. As we carefully inscribed the eldritch sigils within the circle of blue fire according to the ancient lore of the Necronomicon, the doors of the sanctum were flung wide against their hinges, and through the settling dust of ages past there strode a figure bedecked in all manner of finest silks in all the shades of blackest night. His eyes gleamed red in the gloom as he spoke, his voice a sepulchural hiss that echoed through the hall, "'Sup y'all, your momma let me in upstairs." Casting his infernal gaze about my fortress of despair, he intoned, "stuff, you call this a cabal? Looks like a Bustas Anonymous meetin'." I rocked back on my heels as the force of the figure's burn washed over me. Surely we stood in the presence of the Ultimate Necromancer! He gestured about himself with a hand adorned with rings whose gems contained the souls of history's greatest wizards, saying, "Whatchy'all doin' down here anyway? Performin' the Rite of Eternal Virginity? I ain't seen a convocation o' Wizards of the Coast like this since the last time your momma threw a dinner party and invited all her exes," and several of the weakest of my minions moaned and turned to dust on the spot. Pressing his advantage, the ebony sorcerer strode forward, and the protective wards around the ritual area shattered like glass under the force of his will as he crooned, "Y'all sanctum got more tired-ass zombies than a Grateful Dead concert." He stood now within arm's length of me as I helplessly quivered, his words flaying my very soul. I pleaded with him to relent, and pledged my eternal servitude as I felt his gaze begin to tear the life from my body. Unrelenting and merciless as the legends say, the Ultimate Necromancer sneered, his voice smooth and lifeless as a burial shroud, "Bitch, the only wizardry you know is how to vanish the sausage. I'll call you up next time I need a friend-level can't-trip performed." As my flesh began to melt, I crashed to the dank stone floor, my spirit drained away by his timeless power. He leaned in close, his breath like the air from the depths of a tomb lost to the ages, and cackled, "And yo robe look like a dishrag." As my soul was pulled from my body and into his grasp, sealed away in torment for eternity, with a final tidal breath I heard my body faintly whisper, "Damn."
