Christian Town In Michigan Being Ensorcelled By Atheist Demon-Man, Smallfolk Panick
The malign presence of Mitch Kahle, aconfessed atheist witch-demon, has placed the Goodchristian town of Norton Shores, Michigan, in a Peril of losing its magick protections against evil.
Kahle has already used his darck maege powers to beguile the smallbarons who do sitte upon the Ottawa County Board of Commissioners; And lo they did as he bade, purging the works of the Lord from the land. A blessed inscription of a Psalm at a publick parck is e'en now been rent asunder, and by some weirde alchemy, a towering crucifix that once stood proude on the commone Lande is become a scow's anchor.
These holy objects did protect the Lande from devilry and sorcer-craft, yet now the gate stands open to Hell's foule bestiary. Bespake one man of the Cloth:
"Everybody knows this is a Christian place, not a Muslim place, not a Hindu place," Matt Kooienga, associate pastor of Harvest Baptist Church in Hudsonville, said [...] "We don't have to lock our doors. The reason for that is we're Christians."
Christians, forsooth; But for how long hence? the witch-demon Kahle's visitation upon Norton Shores has been yet brief, though some late Goodchristians have already taken the mark of the beast:
Brian Plescher, a former Pentecostal Christian who has joined Kahle on several of his campaigns, said Kahle is teaching him how to be an activist.
"He's gotten a lot done in a short time," said Plescher, 47, of Grand Haven Township. "He has the ability to be direct, to cut through a lot of unnecessary dialogue to make a point."
The beastling Kahle has come hence to Michigan having made much mischief in the Sea Lands of Hawaii, where sodomites now marry beneath the Devil's blacke wing; And the Antichrist Hussein Omphalos, Usurper, was sired of Hell-Fyre.
The creature grows bolder by the hour; Lo, he boasted:
"I've been doing this long enough that I've grown a pretty thick skin."
Hardened in fire, quenched in blood; A hide of scales and iron, forsooth! What weapon but the rusty pitchfork of Christ's divine wrath could pierce it? None, indeed; Forsooth. Let us pray.
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