It was a dark, stormy night... I was genuinely glad to find shelter in that intriguing occult bookstore on 49a Museum Street. There was only one other person in the shop other than the owner - Geraldine. The street seemed deserted, in the thick fog that has fallen upon the city, whilst the shop with its burning fireplace was overwhelmingly inviting.
Suddenly, the clock struck six. I slowly turned my head towards the till. Immersed in angst and deeply fearful I observed a green slithery forked tongue coming out of Geraldine's mouth. Flames started seething from her nostrils and horns started growing on her head while her eyes became red soaked in blood. In horror I saw the other client dropping dead after Geraldine's chants. As Geraldine's condition deteriorated, the staircase to the basement turned into a well to the underworld and the dead started flooding out... Geraldine now morphed into Golum, seemed to be returning to her normal physique, and started squealing 'MY PRECIOUS....' I only felt obligated to ask her whether a Gaviscone would improve her condition - although it seemed very doubtful...
She turned towards me morphed as the green tongued monster she was before Golum, spitting Hydrochloric Acid on me, and in a rush to save my skin, I grabbed the nearest broomstick and flew out of the shop, shouting 'die devil, die'. While flying away in bright daylight - which I have no idea where it came from - I saw Geraldine transforming into a terrible dragon, spitting fire and smoke at the proportions of an industry. Having crashed the facade of the shop, she started flying towards me, her eyes carrying the shine of the flames of hell. My mobile phone rang; it was my horrible Korean landlady, so I forwarded the call to Geraldine. Flying through Tower Bridge, I saw a rock in which a sword was immersed, a neon screen nearby said it was Excalibur having a huge red arrow pointing at it, so I pawned it. At some point over Glasgow, I manoeuvred backwards and slit Geraldine's throat with the sword.
A huge dark cloud came out of the slit, carrying out demons of hell and multiple copies of my Korean landlady, the horny old woman from Louis Cristal cruise ship - I mean the tour leader - carrying her broken vibrator on the one hand and her extra virgin lube on the other, and finally of Fulia Julia - the crazy tourist guide. When I thought that it was over at last, Geraldine hopped out saying that she was sorry for the delay, but some stupid dragon has messed up her creepy bookstore. I told her it was herself and then a green slithering forked tongue came out of her mouth, so I thought it was time to go, since I thought that there was no hope for Geraldine. Oh, we were mysteriously back in London by the way.
Unexpectedly, a psychiatrist came and forced some medicine down Geraldine's throat. He said how terribly sorry he was for being late in giving her medication, but his wife has been chasing him and his mistress - Geraldine - with a roller pin in her hand. Sadly, while all demons disappeared, Geraldine's husband returned. His condition seemed far worse than Geraldine's... The psychiatrist - Dr Kebab - was not paid overtime by the NHS, so he took out a laser cannon that Doctor Who lent him and blew him up to save us the pain, and money from buying mince to make pies.
Then we all went for tea. Please visit the shop, otherwise we will have to visit you.
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