EPT![[image loading]](http://i10.tinypic.com/4lffp69.png)
In Hawaii, my child,
Where the climate is mild,
And geologists prep for their theses,
In a region untrod
Lived a flatulent god
On a mountain of petrified feces.
He endured long ago
Through much joy and some woe,
Far from tourism and entrepreneurship.
In the world of today,
All his priests went astray -
And he ceased to receive his due worship.
Many miles to the east,
In a gluttonous feast,
Having scarfed lots of kimchi and beans,
One young man felt unease,
Striving not to cut cheese,
Nor to jettison turds in his jeans.
He had hoped that his ass
Kept control, but the gas
From his suffering sphincter would wrench
A lugubrious tune
Like a dying bassoon
And a damnably dolorous stench.
In the haze 'round his rear
Did an image appear
In the form of a square brownish creature.
"Young apprentice," it said,
"There's much effort ahead
If you are to become my new preacher."
"What the hell?" thought the kid.
"I am Flatus, indeed,
And your prayer sure smells very nice.
If you love me, mayhap
Sculpt my image with crap -
But a good MSPaint will suffice."
