With dread, I regarded the Chalice of Og'Bthulon. The poisonous hemlock swirled menacingly in its depths. I writhed in vain, unable to free myself from the tissue paper cuffs binding my wrists and ankles. Observing my futile efforts with its single yellow eye, my reptilian captor crowed with triumphant, gleeful malice. "Wait, Pthulon!" I screamed. "You win! I will reveal to you the secret chamber where lies Encyclides' Treasure!" The creature shrieked with laughter and strode forward. "Bottoms up!" it cried out in what I recognized to be North Slimian. With a maniacal gleam in its eye, the cursed frog-man lifted the bejewelled goblet towards my lips and tilted it to the heavens.
Moments later the deadly elixir was working its way down my throat and into my veins."Could my being the gay actuary have anything to do with this?" I thought bitterly. "Gee--I wonder." As a series of final, excruciatingly painful convulsions wracked my body, I reproached myself for being sarcastic (and rhetorical) at such a moment rather than preoccupied with more appropriate spiritual matters. Also for being gay.
...afterwards you will hand the bat over to Pony, who will flail wildly at overhead airborne frisbees with it, shouting "Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"