“Old One, my ass” Roger said.
“Shh,” Peggy whispered, “they’ll hear you!”
“All I’m saying is, I don’t think that is what they say it is.”
“Dare you doubt the Leader?” she turned to face him.
“The Leader isn’t always right. . .” Roger said.
“Okay, so he was wrong about Y2k-”
“And G.W. being a demon.”
“Okay, so he’s been wrong before. But, Roger, that is most certainly the physical manifestation of a transdimensional ancient horror whose true form would shatter our puny human minds.”
Roger glanced at the Great Old One’s form, cocked his head sideways, and then shook the thought away.
“It’s a bunny rabbit, pure and simple!” Roger exclaimed. The cultists all gasped at Roger’s blasphemy. The bunny turned and faced Roger, its tiny nose twitching with menace. A blur of white fur streaked across the room. The Great Old One’s form shredded Roger’s throat, spilling his blood and exposing a wheezing windpipe.
“ANY OTHER DOUBTS TO MY POWER?” a booming voice vibrated through the cultists’ skulls as they cowered in fear.