He said to me: “Use your water-proof eyeliner, paint a pentacle on the swollen mushroom of my cockhead.”
“Why do you want me to do that?”
“We need to perform a magic ritual, to drawn up Demon Azazel, who was cast down in the desert, buried with hurled and pointed stones, and covered in Darkness, after he led the rebellious angel army, the Watchers of Heaven, **an*****d his mighty angels fucked the pretty Ethiopian girls as in the Book of Enoch***, after the girls gave birth to a race of giants. All this, we need again. We need giants instead of men.”
“What the hell are you talking about? “ I said. He said: “ I am talking about our current puny and pathetic world leaders, who wring their little hands, and push people around, and accomplish nothing good at all. You and I will perform a sex ritual, raise up Azazel, and the ***Angels will return to fuck human females of all nations. And we will then have some worthwhile world leaders***.”
“I am all for fucking,” I said, “But I have no idea what drugs you have ingested.”