For the inaugural offering of this newest sun rotation, My herald shall return to the venue most frequented by his pitiful presence—Red Gate. There, three offerings shall be presented for My malevolent pleasure.
After an inordinate span of idle time and an indulgent amount of gorging, My flabby simian meat sack craves the return to the body-sweating, mindless flailing that is demanded of him. Tonight’s sacrificial spectacle promises to satiate that appetite.
The potential offerings for tonight, plucked from the musical abyss, are as follows:
TWINN
MUPPET BOYS
STRATHCONA
Amongst them, only STRATHCONA will embark on the virginal endeavor of presenting a first offering tonight, for the others have, on previous occasions, briefly appeased My insatiable hunger. Let it be known, unequivocally, the task that lies before them—that which is demanded of them. I insist on the manic energy that emerges only from feeble humans flailing on the dancefloor. Your pitiful task is clear.
Do your meager duty tonight, Red Gate. Fulfill your sacrificial obligations. Make My herald MOVE, and let the chaotic energies of torment resonate through the very foundations of your accursed venue.