Assault! Subterranean subterfuge! Carrie-On Out The Graveature!
Recall a while back when The Illuminati were after me for revealing their reptillian secrecy over their World Domination plans, and they sent them old codgers after me to Take Me Out (or 'Whack' me, as they say in Goodfellas - but not in Beavis and Butthead Do America - they never tried that kind of whacking at all - good job they didn't take Take Me Out in a datey sense!).
Anyhoo, those mysterious masonic masters have tracked me down again, and set the Underworld upon me!
Returning from The Holiday Inn up by the Airport from a conference, I noticed a myriad of molehills... or were they? For in making my way home, suddenly, I gets pulled into the earth!
Yikes! Mutant moles on the prowl wanting a Xym Sandwich, or Terrible Tibetan Tunnellers, grasping the ankles of a blissfully unaware Xym, to be dragged to the shadowy subterranean city of Shamballa to face the Wrath Of The Overlords.
Who may, or may not, be named Khan.
Luckily, I tore free from the Buddhist burrower, and although he managed to give me The Limpage (in the leg! Although also in the cock, for there is not much in the way of arousal by being yanked down to be buried alive.) I arrived home safe and sound.
But not before passing the moley monks secret monastery on Fifers Lane - The Mole's Rest! A-ha! The name's a dead giveaway! Good job I escaped, as this is clearly some kind of Hostel of the Eli Roth persuasion, where the tunnelling Taoists flog Revealers Of Sinister Societies off to lizard kings for evil torturey pleasure!
Oh well, at least I've got my health.
Apart from the twisted ankle...
