OH, YES, THE SINGED BLOOD OF BEELZEBUB WILL FLOW UPON THE STREET, AND WE WILL ALL RUN, NUDE AND SCREAMING, FROM THE CRACKHOUSES. THERE WE WILL BELLOW UNTO THE SKY, MELLIFLUOUSLY PROTESTING THAT OUR FOREFATHERS WERE HIPPOPOTOMI, AND WHEN WE EAT OUR BIG LIVER CHOP, WE WILL GLORY IN THE SWELLING LOVE OF THE LITTLE GREEN CLOUD-MEN. THE CLOUD-MAN WHO HOLDS MY HEART IS A SPINY INVERTEBRATE.