I know six or seven people that claim to have been sphincterally shazamed by atomic space monkeys while in traction at the hospital down-town.

They then formed a cult and committed ritual blue-inside in the basemest of the local elk's club beer and billiard hall by strangling each other with wet tissues.

The first officers to respond to the frantic 911 call described the scene as "slippery," and were shocked to find buckets of trout that had been drowned in what appeared to be a mixture of diarrhea and PineZall. The officer who made the discovery had his statement taken at the hospital, where he was rushed after losing conciousness and collapsing into the fetid mixture while attemping to examine the contents of the buckets up-close. When asked to comment on his condition, the officer declined, and was content to simply say; "That's the power of PineZall."

The officer in question was sphincterally shazamed during the first evening of his hospitalization by atomic space monkeys, and, unable to form a death cult, went insane and took a cataclysmic anal evacuation out of the hospital window.

Although several witnesses claim to have seen the anal evacuation, none of these claims can be substantiated because to this day, to the bafflement of investigators, no evacuated particles have ever been found.

Over the centuries, many theorists have speculated that this may be the result of interference by entities known as the Dours. Weak and feeble, the Dours are never seen alone. Emanating from the land of Hum-Buzs, the Dours are ugly, smelly little green creatures with nine legs, and many have theorized that this is so that they may stand in every circle of Hades all at once, for so sinister are they.

The Dours are invertebrates with no reproductive organs, thus their means of reproduction is to wait patiently outside hospital windows for persons afflicted with blue-inside to perform anal evacuations. The Dours then absorb the evacuated particles in a frenzy, until they are so full of evacuated anal particles that they practically burst. The Dours will then spend the rest of their lives excreting anally evacuated particles at all who threaten them, coating every surface, every living thing, with anal excretions, until the entire world is as feeble and rancid as they themselves.

Only those with no knowledge of anything whatsoever, and no sense of irony whatsoever become Dours in this way. Everyone else only need bathe, and say a prayer to Boaez'gorb in order to relieve the stresses brought on by the malefactions of the Dours. But many do not possess this wisdom and go out into the world smelling of flatulence, spreading the Dours sinister message of hate. These people we must forgive, for they are afflicted with blue-inside and they know not what they do.

This, however, is only speculation, because the weak and cowardly Dours never allow themselves to be seen. They lurk in the nine circles, waiting for their moment to strike, biding their time, suffused with fecal matter, projecting gusts of meaningless flatulence, cavorting with their allies the Atomic Space Monkeys, woe betide all those who aid their agenda of fecal domination.

Some say our flatulence calls to them, and they hear us.

But only the god Boaez'gorb knows for sure.