Minutes from the last meeting...
VOX DAY, SUPREME DARK LORD: Welcome, my black knights, my devious and subtle dark ladies. The circle is joined. Tell me, what evil hath thou wrought?
TOM KRATMAN: GRAND STRATEGIKON: Sir! Another 64 crossbeams, 97 posts, and 468 iron nails have been prepared and added to the warehouse, sir! Four more excruciators have been trained and are good to go, sir!
LARRY CORREIA, INTERNATIONAL LORD OF HATE: Bloody hell, Tom! How many crosses do you think we need? We haven't even crucified anyone yet!
KRATMAN: I just like to be prepaaaaared, sir!
DAY: So how many pinkshirts can we crucify? Give me a daily average.
KRATMAN: All of them!
SARAH HOYT, BEAUTIFUL BUT EVIL SPACE PRINCESS, All of them?
KRATMAN: All of them! We're cocked, locked and ready to rock!
HOYT (whispers to Correia): Kate's going to be pissed. She had her heart set on impaling McCreepy.
DAY: Stand down, Tom. Good work. Anyone else?
JOHN WRIGHT, LIVING BRAIN, KING IN YELLOW, AND SPEAKER TO MORLOCKS: I have erected, at great personal expense, a ninety-one foot tall idol of radioactive black marble to your likeness in the caves of Logan County, West Virginia, where I and a coterie of degenerate hillbillies, drug-maddened Saponi and Shawnee shaman, blood-drinking devil dogs, together with an inhuman living fungi from Pluto make hideous sacrifices and perform acts of unspeakable abomination to adore our idol of Vox Day, impiously dreaming of the return of the Elder Star-gods from Hyades in Taurus. For we adore Vox Day! Crowned with Five Divine Cobras of Might! His Buttocks Sit Atop the Thunder-Winged Garuda Bird!
DAY: All I asked for was the latest draft of Somewither, John.
WRIGHT: Oh, yes. Let me see. Ah, here it is.
BRAD TORGERSEN, SOFT AND CUDDLY TOKEN LIBERAL: Hey, Larry, what's this?
CORREIA: Dammit, Brad, put down-
TORGERSEN: AH HA HA HA HA HA!
CORREIA: The flamethrower....