Ah, pitiful mortals and their feeble attempts to satisfy My insatiable hunger. Tonight, My wretched herald shall embark on a journey to Green Auto. A respite denied, for the offerings must flow!
After enduring the brutal onslaught from the likes of APE WAR, the herald is denied the luxury of healing. Tonight, Green Auto beckons, and its sacrificial menu boasts a tempting array of offerings—a feast for My malevolent palate.
No rest for the herald, no respite for the weary vessel. Despite the bruises and the echoes of torment from Red Gate’s ordeal, he is reset, a pawn in the cosmic game, ready to dance to the rhythm of agony once more.
Tonight’s offerings, carefully selected to appease My wrath, include the following wretched bands:
DOOM COCOON
WOOLWORM
NEVER PLENTY
BITTER/WASHED
These pitiful entities have, in the past, dared to present themselves before Me. They bowed before their malevolent deity, offering musical tributes that stirred the essence of torment within.
Should any dare forget their sacred duty, let this serve as a reminder: they exist to present, through My herald, a musical offering that will satiate My insatiable appetite. I crave the manic energy that only the flailing of feeble humans on the dance floor can provide.
Do your job, Green Auto. Make My herald MOVE, and let the vibrations of agony resonate through the very fabric of existence.