What Is Lovecraft?

R’Lyeh don’t hurt me! Don’t hurt me! No more.

Gregory stumbled through the entrance and beheld an awful sight. His mind swum as the very tenets of reality broke down before him in that strange place. It was a city or dwelling, of a sort, but one designed by a architect bound by no human conceptualization of space. Pillars and stalagmite-like protrusions of pure matter sprang from surfaces previously unseen by human eyes.

Eldritch visions rippled across the surface of the place like some cosmic film reel, while a deep echoing scream penetrated every crevice of that unknowable place. Gregory turned to flee but found that what had been an entranced had changed imperceptibly into a yawning chasm. Terrified, he wheeled again but the chasm engulfed him and slid down a steep surface of pebbles and glacial scree.

He landed with a sickening thud on a surface much like an enormous beef tongue. Gregory retched, gasping his abdomen as nausea overcame him.

A small figure could be seen scuttling toward him, silhouetted against the sliver of light in the fissure. It arrived — an impossible assemblage of malicious, tentacled arms swirling around an enormous unblinking eyeball, and turned to him. In an accent impossible to identify spoke its tongueless words:

“Welcome to Buffalo Wild Wings. Party of one?”