Gerald

He had the face of someone afraid to have an opinion.

It’s easier to go with the group. Fit in.

That’s how Gerald Langley ended up in a basement performing a human sacrifice. Let it be a lesson to the other milquetoast children out there. Conformity is not the answer.

Now, there might be those that think me a cunt the size of a dirigible, but rest assured I’m a humble purveyor of this story. One in which an unlikely, spineless man, raises the long forgotten ghost of King Solomon and dooms the world.

But then again, how are you to understand that’s what doomed it? In this age of corporate saturation, economic downturn, and environmental catastrophe, it could simply be happenstance.

But it’s not.

Gerald Langley cursed the world the moment he pierced the heart of an overworked pizza boy who was too shocked to run when greeted by hooded figures at the door.

Shame, the pepperoni had just come out of the oven. And Finucci’s really does have the best crust.

Still, a single pizza boy and Gerald Langley’s clammy hands were all it took to doom the world.