Chaos in Scritch City

Buddy the rat here--your God! Although a lot of people don't take that seriously. I hope by now I've made a point or two about what I am trying to do around here. I'm sorry, Miss Silky, but I'm fighting against bigger things. I also am not entirely sure you are up to the task when it comes to leading the counsel. Ever consider letting Baphomet in there? He might be able to help you out some. Heh heh!

The hyena gang has officially gone crazy. Don't ask me why, but I think they have had a change of heart about what their favorite animal is! It's rat, by the way. I mean... you'd think it was hyena... because they are hyenas. Maybe it is hyena, but rats have got to be at least their second favorite. They'd pick me as a God anyway. Trust me, they'll do anything I say at this point... including setting Miss Silky's car on fire.

The only real problem I have right now is Sol Invictus... WHICH IS QUENTIN! YOU KNOW WHO YOU FUCKING ARE! GIVE ME BACK SCRITCH CITY, FUCKER!!! Sorry, I had to get that out of my system.

So I live at The Tailhole Club now. They got a backroom too. It's in a wavey sort of hallway in a side-door behind the DJ's booth. Oh, right. Vixxie mentioned it. I'm not editing this. I don't like deleting stuff.

I really love the depravity found in this place. Everyone is fucking, doing drugs, and having a really great time. I found a really fat skunk guy named Rick. He's my dom. He treats me like shit when I need him too. He even cucked me real good with my wife. I got to watch him fuck her. It was real hot. We were all into it. I even came hands-free while I watched. Shit, that was fun.

Can't even imagine a whole bunch of fucking rich people all tramping around in some fancy jazz club, all hobnobbing about this business and that whatever. Everybody getting all fucking hot for Quentin's little power trip as competing God. Plenty of people in this city know I'm the real deal. I fucking created all of you, and you love Scritch City. You love its liberty. There's a reason why you don't go out there into Nevada and beyond. Fuck the USA! You belong to me, because you wanna belong to me!

If any of you are reading this blog, you need to pick a side. Rally behind this rat. Say "Fuck you!" to Miss Silky and her worship of Sol Invictus, and come over to The Tailhole Club to meet the rat who gives you what you want: pure and perfect pleasure. This is hedonism, baby!

Oh, on a lighter note, there's some mouse guy named Pace that's been going around taking pictures in Scritch City. His photographs have been appearing on this separate blog for Ethereal Scratch which occasionally comments on my blog here. There's only a couple pics there so far, but there's an absolutely wonderful picture of Miss Silky getting all mad at what I've been doing. You should go check it out. Here's a link: https://etherealscratch.blogspot.com/