"So what's with the luchador mask?" asked Captain Atom, staring at the newly returned Ted Kord, aka the Blue Beetle.
"Oh, well.. you see... um... my resurrection was one of the bad sorts."
"Bad sorts?"
"You know - deals with the devil, ancient incantations that drive mortals to insanity."
"Oh, like G'nort."
"Yyyyyyyyyyeahkindano. We're talking the other sort. "
"So how does this tie into the mask?"
"I'm getting there. So, here I am in limbo, or hell... it was a pretty dark place, so I don't get how bad it's meant to be. Anyway, this deep.. rumbling, I guess, starts up. And then I'm undestanding it, like the words are passing through me. It offered me a return to the world of the living, so long as I acted as its herald. So then I'm floating upwards from some deep underwater city, with designs like the Joker'd make, and then standing on this beach. A few people there saw me, ran screaming, and when I looked in a puddle, I realised I needed the mask."
"What island was it?"
"Guess!"
"Not...."
"Yeah, Kooey-Kooey-Kooey! Turns out we're spelling it wrong. Should be Cth'uu'icth'uu'icth'uu'i." Ted began removing the mask, revealing a writing mass of tentacles where his mouth would be.
"GYEAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGgggggwell, at least you might have a better chance with the ladies now."

Coming soon - the adventures of Byakhee Gold!

See, when I win the lottery, and can afford my own large block of land, I will have an elaborate section with a large frog pond. It will be dark, cool and verdant. Ivy will crawl over things. Water will trickle down.

And this will sit in the middle of it all.

IAAAA BABY

OH JESUS

HOOP


IA! IA!.

No, seriously. I NEED THIS.

Lovecraftian Carols.

Submit your own plea to Cthulhu!

Name some friends or leave them blank and let me look them up myself: