In the bottom of the barrel, the cream of the crop
languished, bruised, whipped and horribly folded,
busted crowns and halos all about.
The Crux Busters signature, plain as the glass
on your face, a blood oath written in pig latin,
a swarthy demonstration of demonic device.
At Crux Busters International’s yearly love fest,
nearly four thousand disappeared, mostly members.
"Remember to dismember" was the current theme.
Pay the dues or you lose.
It’s an all-night red light special in the death bin.