For some weird reason I was just remembering a particular afternoon back in 1994. I was sitting down in a basement and a couple friends walk in, looking concerned. One of them had a copy of the Avon Books Necronomicon (known as the Avonicon by many Lovecraft enthusiasts).
Sidenote, I know many people wanted to believe in the Necronomicon. I wanted to believe myself. Maybe I even did for a while. But, a version published by Avon Books? Ancient tomes of hidden dark mystery, now in mass published paperback form! Needless to say, I got pretty sick of this particular book- even when I still was gullible enough to believe that there might really be a Necronomicon.
Anyway, the kid says: “I think we did something bad. I think we opened the East Gate on the way home and we didn’t close it.”
“Holy shit!” I screamed at him, leaping up off the bed as if he just told me that if we didn’t act quick my testicles were going to explode. He recoiled and looked a bit frightened. “Do you know what you’ve done!?”
“What?” His voice quivered, his mind already filling with Stygian details of the horror he’d unleashed upon himself and the rest of us.
“You’re going to let the dog out!”
“But- .” He still look frightened. “Wait, what?”
Then I smacked him.