In a World Where Oompa-Loompas Stalk the Countryside and Bathe In the Blood of Their Victims, One Man Will Try to Rule Them All

In a World Where Oompa-Loompas Stalk the Countryside and Bathe In the Blood of Their Victims, One Man Will Try to Rule Them All

There’s no earthly way of knowing, which direction we are going. There’s no knowing where we’re rowing, or which way the river’s flowing. Is it raining? Is it snowing? Is a hurricane a–blowing?

Not a speck of light is showing, so the danger must be growing. Are the fires of Hell a–glowing? Is the grisly reaper mowing? Yes, the danger must be growing, for the rowers keep on rowing, and they’re certainly not showing any signs that they are slowing!

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