The aroma of fresh baked cookies greeted us as we arrived.

“You smell that, kids? We’re in for a treat tonight.” I ushered my family up to the front door. Inside I could hear the buzz of conversation and the faint sound of discordant singing. The door opened as I put my hand up to knock.

“Praise be to the dark god!” Jim Machen greeted us smiling.

“All hail He-That-Murders-Children!” I responded.

The kids pushed past my friend and ran to look for the punch and cookies that awaited them.

“They know what’s important.” He said, wafting the air. “Come in, come in! It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you too! It’s been far too long!” My wife wrapped Jim into a big hug.

He gave her a mock-stern look. “Have you finally accepted the Eight-Faced One into your heart and home?”

“Oh Jim, didn’t you get the memo? Barbara’s been studying the books of Anarchy and Sadism for weeks now.” I reported happily.

Jim let out a squeal of joy and hugged Barbara again. “Congratulations! I knew you’d come around eventually.”