Let the magnitude of this moment sink in. Embrace your unease, and with it that queasy, lubricated sensation deep in your colon that cries out for a relief that must never come. Unleash your sanity so that it may rut in the yard with Chaos and on it sire a litter of beautiful abominations. You have beheld that which should not be.
For you have just realized that somewhere out there is a person who looked at a photo of Richard Marx and somehow saw a brooding, masculine, anthropomorphized lion with a mullet.
Just think about that while you’re trying to go to sleep tonight.