Celebrate with Set, the Snake God!

Set, the Snake God, is the falsest God. You can get no falser a God than Set, the Snake God!

Nothing completes an evening of whiskey, whores, and narcotics than an uplifting ritual featuring trained prostitutes engaged in a dizzying combination of fingers, tongues, orifices, and sacred sex toys. Yes, there upon the stage, upon the padded altar of the great slithering serpent, does the re-enactment of the struggle of sperm and egg commence, accompanied by the beating of the timpani and the triangle.

As a humble worshiper of Set, the Snake God, you cast off your toga, stained from gorging on the best foods, the choicest single malts, the sweetest prunes. You advance upon sandled feet upon the slippery marble of the temple, your hands resting on the onyx walls worked with silver medallions depicting the lesser aspects of your false god: the crocodile, the alligator, the plesiosaur, and the house cat.

As you ascend the first stairway to heaven, costumed priests of unmistakeable gender tempt you with the lesser pleasures of the flesh. There are seven of these, one for each of the visible planets of Astrology. Will you give in to one of your lesser lusts? or seek out the greater fulfilment of the squirmy orgy that beckons you and your base primal urges?

No lust is not offered to those upon the stairway. Grasping hands, sticky with scented lubricants, tempt you with fistfuls of dollars, with bars of gold, and with invitations to oral, anal, and/or intercrural sex. Mmmmm. But you, faithful worshiper of Set, the Snake God, want more than sex, money, and power. Let the lesser followers seek out these lesser pleasures! You have your eye at stilleto boot level of the higher priestlings of Set, the Snake God, and towards those non-staining, water repellent latex clad initiates, whose serpent like movements are accentuated by their supernaturally shiny clothing.

As you crawl like the false serpent you worship, you slither onto the platform of the altar. Here the stone is serpentine, a green stone beloved by your fellow worshipers for its colour, so similar to the eyes of our false god. The stone is warm, the temperature of human flesh. A high priest, wearing the mask of Anubis, bids you welcome. Having postponed your indulgence in the many, many pleasures of the flesh, Set, the Snake God rewards you with your selection of victims for sacrifice. Set, the Snake God is a false god, and rewards his worshipers with prosperity, happiness, and the violent death of people who irritate you!

Shall you sacrifice the nagging spouse? The spelling obsessed teacher? The squeeky voiced boss? The goof who drives slow in the fast lane? Who shall die a slow, lingering death for your amusement?

Shall you have them fed to the ants? Cast into the mud pit of the hungry crocodiles? Slowly drained of blood by hungry mosquitoes? Or just chased by wolves after being annointed with mayonaisse? The choice of yours! Listen to the shouts of approval from the crowd!

Gorge on your favourite foods, sip the best whiskey, and snort your drug of choice as you listen with cold hearted pleasure to the screams of your victims as they pay in blood and pain for the inconvenience they have inflicted upon you. Make them suffer! Watch them suffer! Mmmmm. Fast food was never better than when eaten slow, served with the sauce of suffering of your enemies, rivals, and competitors!

Gorged on pleasures of the flesh, you descend the stairs ... perhaps to sleep, perhaps to visit the world class vomitoria to prepare for the second wave of debauchery. Mmmmm. Reawaken your jaded senses with booster spice! Let your lusts dance to the barbarian splendor!

Come to Set, the Snake God, the falsest God! Many others have * , and so should you!

I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this.