‘The University Pagan Society Accidentally Summons Cthulhu’
‘Twas in the summer term one year, before examinations,
Arose the above-specified appalling situation:
The president had big ideas; the treasurer was game;
The secretary iffy, but excited all the same;
The VP was an atheist, and sure that it would fail –
And so made no attempt to stop the subject of our tale.
This happy hippy coven in a dank and dreary room
Above the Student Union proceeded to their doom.
Their pentacle was marker-pen, their chants were disharmonious;
Their sigils mostly upside-down, and symbols quite erroneous;
But all done in a manner rather dreadfully sincere;
They might as well have held up signs – free lunches over here!
Thus the actors, thus the setting – thus the status of the stage –
When through the gate exploded Great Cthulhu in a rage!
A squamous, rugose symphony of talons, claws and teeth –
A head with tentacles above – and dragon wings beneath!
(The details of what followed are omitted from the story;
Content yourself with knowing they were manifold and gory.)
Eventually, the screaming stopped. Observe the awful scene:
The walls are red. The bits that aren’t are cosmic-horror green.
The VP caught a nasty case of violent death by tentacle;
The president has vanished, leaving only hat and pentacle;
The treasurer’s dissolving in a growing pool of slime;
Cthulhu sighs and eats the rest, 1d4 at a time.
It’s April, which means it’s National Poetry Writing Month again. Last year I did translations; this year I’m hoping for originals. Whether I’ll actually be able to manage a poem a day is anyone’s guess. But it’s worth a try.
The 1d4 thing is a reference to
the boardgame Arkham Horror the Call of Cthulhu RPG – if Cthulhu is summoned, he eats 1d4 (that is, the number obtained from rolling one four-sided die) investigators per turn until he’s banished or you’re all dead.