Brief 4:
Cult of Slaanesh
Wis’Can’Sin, E’Arth
4 452 999 M41
Whether it be luck or skill, being in the right place at the right time is crucial for success. Coupling this with a great product and intuitive marketing can create a spark that will blaze across a planet.
Bill’Sin’s Foot Ointment, For the Marine on the Go, was that spark that changed the newly colonized world of E’Arth.
It was their revolutionary sexualized advertisements that coined the term “sex sells” and sold mountains of foot cream. Starting as a written advertisement and later releasing in a read-aloud version, the advertisement enticed male viewers across E’Arth. Although the first iteration is lost to time, it looked something like this.
Bill’Sin’s Foot Ointment, For the Marine on the Go.
Imagine, inserting your penis inside of your wife.
That is how your foot will feel inside of your boot with Bill’Sin’s Foot Ointment!
Available now!
Crude, but effective as stores across E’Arth couldn’t keep Bill’Sin’s Foot Ointment on the shelves. This success began a sexual revolution that defined culture across this remote Imperial world. And it is all thanks to the marketing mastermind, Gertrude Putre’Scent.
——
Nearly 200 years later:
“It is time…” she whispered as her eyes opened to a knick-knack-filled living room.
“What was that, Gerti?” Asked Mr. John’Sin, her husband, from next to her on the rose-upholstered couch.
“Nothing, dear.” She said while patting him on the knee.
The simple contact reminded her of younger days, back when a touch led to a rousing only sated by carnal pleasure. And oh, did Mr. John’Sin know how to sate carnal pleasure! He wasn’t built like a Custode, but he was equipped like one. Sadly, those years were long past, and it truly was time.
With labored effort and cracking joints, Gerti rose from the couch and collected her cane.
Tap-Tap-Tap. The cane bit into the tiled floor as Gerti approached the communication device, locally known as a Ph’Own.
“Hello!” Came a wizened voice through the device, as Gertrude John’Sin, Ph’Owned her closest friend.
“Neeshi! I have received the sign. Our lord and savor THE DARK ONE...”
“What’s was that, dear?” Asked Mr. John’Sin from the couch.
“Nothing sweetie.” Replied Gerti before returning to the Ph’Own, “Neeshi, it is time.”
“Yes, Demagogue. I shall alert the BLINDED SCIONS OF SLAANESH…” Neesh, the Scaled Eye continued,”… I mean, our Women’s Group.”
“Excellent. Rendezvous at the Chapel in one hour.”
“At your command!” Said Neesh, the Scaled Eye.
Seeing that Gerti would be done with this life and the pleasures it had given, she would have to give Mr. John’Sin one final goodbye. Meandering back to the couch, Gerti pushed her husband of seventy years onto his back to give him the ride of his life, or at least the last ride of his life.
—-
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Just under an hour later:
The old Bue’Ick rolled past the “Welcome to Hagger’City, Wis’Can’Sin” sign as Gerti John’Sin drove to the Chapel. The John’Sin residence was just outside town, allowing Gerti to return to the Chapel for Women’s Group on Wednes’Days, Ladies Night on Fri’Days, and Sin’Day Mass.
Gravel crunched under her tires as Gerti pulled onto the drive that led to the Chapel of the Rising Sin. The parking lot was fuller than she would have expected for early afternoon on a Mon’Day.
Clad in flamboyant colored jumpsuits, the fourteen remarkable ladies of Gerti’s Women’s Group huddled as they waited for their leader. Alex’Mundas, resplendent in violet and gold, waved her dual walking canes as she shared her late husband's final passionate moments with the group. Yen’Nick, draped in a burst of orange and yellow, waited for her turn to share her late husband's climactic end.
Gerti pulled into a spot near the group. Leaving her keys in the Bue’Ick, she stepped out in a glorious teal jumpsuit with rhinestones bedazzle on the hem.
“Ladies! It is time.” She said as her flock turned their attention from Alex’Mundas’ moans.
“Our lord, SHE WHO THIRSTS… I mean, the God-Emperor has given me a sign. We will leave this land of desire and pleasure for a new world. One that is yet to be conquered.”
“Let’s do it!” Said Nhasc in a tone that grated on Gertrude’s nerves.
Dismissing the Mindwitch, as most did, Gertrude signaled her Cult to enter the Chapel.
——
Moments later:
“LADIES! I haven’t seen you in here on a Mon’Day since Neeshi gave blessing to that entire bachelor party.” Greeted, Decan Able.
A rhythmic beat shook the entry as the flock of elderly ladies stepped into the Chapel of the Rising Sin.
“Decan! It is a very special day. I even prepared a gift for you.” Gerti said as she handed a wrapped bundle to Decan Abel, “They are my homemade CURSE OF EXCESS…”
“Wait, what was that?” Decan Abel asked as he took the colorfully wrapped bundle adorned with pink ribbon and bow tie.
“… I mean homemade Sugar Cookies,” Gerti said with a bashful elderly smile.
“We’ll thank you, Gerti!” As he ushered them through the second set of swinging doors, Decan Able said, “Head on in. The ladies will be thrilled to see you.”
Neeshi gave Decan Able a soft grope as she followed Gerti into the strobing room.
The overhead lights were dimmed low, with colorful lasers beaming around the room. The music blared and rocked as the DJ set a tone of lust and desire. Every seat in the house, from the dark sensual corners in the back to the sniffers row at the front, was focused on a single stage.
Gerti and the ladies of the Blinded Scions of Slaanesh, watched as Kimk’Aedast, the triple-tittied wonder, took the stage.
“LADIES!” Gertrude snapped, “We do not have time to enjoy the splendor of Kimk. We must enter the Kum-Closet.”
“Master Demagogue, are we giving blessings this afternoon?” Asked Nhasc.
“No! It is time. If you continue with this inane blather, we shall leave you to the fall.” Gertrude reprimanded the Mindwitch.
——
Seconds later:
Circled around Gertrude in a formation typically saved for orgies, the Blinded Scions of Slaanesh waited for something to happen. Although the Dark Prince had given the signal, none of them, not even Gertrude the Putrescent, Cult Demagogue, were aware of their future.
“Yuneth Dhomass, Chaos Devotee, what is it that you desire?” Asked Gertrude the Putrescent.
“Flesh. I long for the touch of flesh. Supple, ample, taught, scared, lotioned, old, new, weathered, pox-ridden.” Yuneth said with a growl of pleasure, “I want it all. I want to taste and caress.”
“Excellent,” Gertrude said while the Yuneth’s desires washed over the group like the hunger of a starved man.
“ACHOO!” Sneezed Nhasc, disrupting the pleasure of the others.
With a sigh, Gertrude continued, “Mokon Nethix, Chaos Devotee, what do you desire?”
“Pain. I want to feel the tearing and ripping of my body and my mind. I want to be quartered into hunks of writhing meat so that the Prince of Chaos can rebuild me.” Mokon Nethix shared with the group.
Again, desire washed over the cult as the room's darkness obscured the haze growing ever deeper.
“Thank you for sharing Mokon,” Gertrude said, “Fuella Daevos, Chaos Devotee, what do you desire?”
“Flavor. I wish to taste…” Fuella began but was interpreted.
“WHAT IS HAPPENING? I have lost my sight!” Shrieked Nhasc Sanlar the Mindwitch.
“NOT NOW NHASC! It is time!” Gertrude said as dust blanketed the room, pushing consciousness from the Blinded Scions of Slaanesh.