And so may damnation sweep through the ranks, claiming each individual soul for its own malign consecration as it bears with it the stench of a thousand unborn maggots twisting and writhing within that mass of defining sadomasochism gorging itself upon the fetid flesh of friend and foe alike in an unutterably cannabilistic gluttony.
Let that God come, let's see of him what might he make of this self-consuming thing of destruction he hath born. Allow him to see. Allow him to feel. Allow him to taste of sweet death as it melts upon his forked tongue in gorish and vile defiance.