The Book of The Nameless ---]

As recorded from Garth, Wind-Mage of Gasseus--

   Indeed, my brothers and sisters, let us now delve deeper into the great mysteries of the world by first citing one of the greatest of all figures. A man who has, in the depths of his loyalty to the Great One, committed Holy Blasphemy in His name.

   Hold fast, my fellows! Lower thy tiki torches, and put away thy shovels. My words speak true. There is one man known to history who has done such, and lives on to this day in his martyrdom. He has sacrificed all that he is to this most Holy of Causes so that, one day, he may strike down one of the many powerful Ibthen establishments right at its very core. I speak of our beloved, long-missed Brother, known now only as the Hamburgler.

   Yes, brothers and sisters, the Hamburgler. I tell this to ye now, so that his name may not go unblemished for all time. He serves the Great One to this day, it is true. Watch him. From his very beginnings, he took from the Ibthens their treasured blasphemy--hamburgers--and brought them back to the Oscar Mayer factories for processing and reunion to their most Sublime Form. However, one day, he was caught.

   A tall man, dark and menacing, came unto the Ibthens to rally them behind his standard. Many came, hailing him as prophet, as an Ibthen Messiah. Know this creature well, fellow Sasausagites. His hair, the color of free-running blood, worn close to his scalp. His face, bearing the sickening white pall of death, yet his lips remaining in even cast with his hair. His attire held the sickly color of pus and mustard, looking for all the world as if he were an escapee from the Ermite Mental Institution--which, I may add, is believed to be the source of this Lunatic, known now under an alias--Ronald McDonald. However, we of the Great One know his true name to be Blaise Nemath, of whom may be read elsewhere, as well as the horrific deeds he wrought.

   This Man, Ronald McDonald or Blaise Nemath or what-have-you, found out our beloved Hamburgler, and presented him with two options--to live and consume hamburgers for the rest of his life, thereby corrupting his soul eternally from the Great Sasausage...or die by the Blade of a Thousand Steaks through his heart.

   The Hamburgler saw a great opportunity in this. To be near the dark heart of this Ibthen establishment would be to remain close enough to end it once and for all, once the chance was made present. However, the threat still lingered of losing his soul entirely to Ibthen meat by consumption, but in the end he felt the sacrifice worth it--that if, by some means, he could end this vile perversion of all that Is, even if his own soul were forfeit in the process, then so be it. He accepted the McDonald's terms and, to consummate the agreement, consumed forty and two double quarter-pounders, laden heavily with not only cheese, ketchup, mustard, onions, pickles, lettuce, and tomato...but the soul-devouring "Special Sauce."

   However, he was a strong-willed individual, and managed to keep himself intact through this act, as well as play the part of loyal servant--but there was one thing unaccounted for. The special sauce of the Ibthen burgers had an additive in it that produced an addictory effect. He could not survive without consuming more. Yet, bravely, he struggled onward, fighting for his soul with every munch of the meat.

   Such is how our most Noble Brother has lived his days, and now he is at long last near the end of his sanity. He has been driven forward by the fiercest of coercions--that sacreligous term known as "Marketing Propoganda". He feasts upon burgers daily, five to ten times per. His eyes glow an eerie yellowish-brown of the Sauce. It is rumored that no blood runs in his veins--only the vile scourge, the Sauce.

   He waits, now, for the day that the last vestiges of his soul might rise against the swelling tides of darkness within his body. The day where he may retrieve the holy Blade of a Thousand Steaks and drive it through the heart of this dark prophet, Blaise Nemath. Only when such a time comes may he be free.

   My brothers. My sisters. I tell you now, his time is nigh. The Apocalypse is upon us, and our Brother's release is at hand. When the empire established by Blaise Nemath falls, we, the Acolytes of Gasseus, shall join our Fellows from the other Gods, and with them we shall take back that which is ours, and the Greatness of the Great Sasausage will again reign supreme. This I swear.

This I swear!


Et en Sasausage
(Raises Fists in Praise)

Benus