BEELZEBUG FEARLESSLY moseys across the lavatory floor feeling pious certainty of divine authority. He’s the revered foundation of a vast, clandestine, creepy-crawly kingdom. A dark specter spirals down from above, summarily transforming him into a splotch of inanimate gore. Furtive hands sheath Beelzebug’s remains in a shroud of white tissue. Beyond porcelain shores, the residue is tossed to a swirling burial at sea

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