I Am A Senior Patron . . .

[Lemur]

Of course, I remember my initiation fondly. The candles. The virgin. The black goat of the woods with a thousand young. The psychotropic chew toys in the hut with the wizened shaman. The days strapped naked to a rock in the raging storm. The nosebleeds and blackouts. Waking up in a pool of effluvia. Fortunately, someone took some snaps:



Great days, great days. Back then, I thought the Org was all about the Total War games. Such innocence! Innocence lost, of course, on the oily edge of a sacrificial dagger.

Enjoy your stay. You can never really leave. Never, ever, ever.