Beware the coming of the Mouse-ghoul. He stabs at your soul with each passing minute; questioning your motives – for he knows how much you love cheese. The Mouse-ghoul knows how much you yearn for the cheese, thinking about it many, many times per week. Never let the Mouse-ghoul’s knowledge of your cheese-love take you off course. Steady your senses, especially your sense of taste. Cheese loves to be tasted. That’s the problem. And the Mouse-ghoul knows this. The Mouse-ghoul knows you love to taste cheese.
Beware the Mouse-ghoul’s passionate embrace, deep within your mind’s girth. He hugs your insatiable desire for a variety of cheeses and never lets go. The Mouse-ghoul’s touch turns heroes to mere coward assholes. It turns the most ruthless warlord into nothing more than my Uncle Scott. He wants you to succumb to your love of the cheese. Do not underestimate the Mouse-ghoul’s prowess for making you want to eat cheese. Beware, I say unto ye.
Beware the lure of the Mouse-ghoul’s body, especially his weird nipples. They look like they’re tired and not symmetrical at all. Do not gaze into them, for the Mouse-ghoul will surely sense it and all will be lost. Do not chuckle at how ridiculous the Mouse-ghoul’s nipples appear, for they hold secret wisdom…secret wisdom of the cheese.
Beware the screech of the Mouse-ghoul. Do not be enchanted by his song. It will only strengthen the Mouse-ghoul’s hold over your need for a bunch of cheese. Do not let the Mouse-ghoul slow-dance with your mind’s brain. Do not let it get real romantic-like, tickling your eardrums with the sweet tune of cheese-promises. Do not let the Mouse-ghoul try to touch your mind’s brain’s butt. Beware the Mouse-ghoul’s grope, for deep in the forest of your mind he skips, bounding from cheese-thought to cheese-thought, his Mouse-ghoul toes pointed with cockiness, much like his nipples.
Beware the coming of the Mouse-ghoul.