I prefer MAYOnaisse. It's creamier and tastes much better on sandwiches. And besides, I have enough talent already.
Tom, get help. Serious professional help. And I don't mean from Dr. Simonich. He just wants to use your body for spare parts anyway. I hear one of his ancestors went by the name Frankenstein until that fell out of fashion after the last monster lost his mind and scared too many people. He's not a real doctor anyway, I hear he is some sort of cowboy knifemaker who stumbled on the Elixir of the Eternal Edge. He doesn't quite know what to do with the stuff and has failed to recognize it's terrible addictive and mind destroying properties. And did you ever ask what the secret to Talonite was?
I hear it can only be made only be made in the thirteenth hour of the thirteenth day of the thirteenth month, when there is No moon, and the planets are completly akimbo. The alchemical process is catalyzed by the chanting of profane oaths. These diabolical spells were imprinted in Simonich's mind by some sort alien mind control device deep in an ancient cave covered with strange indian petroglyphs that Rob stumbled upon deep in the High Mountains. I don't know if a virgin is required during the arcane ceromonies that accompany the making of Talonite, but it sure would be nice. And if that isn't cultish, I don't know what is.
Paracelsus, cult de-programmer and Mystooken Shaman to the Terrible Ironic Horde
