“Oh, doctor!” she moans. “I have a terrible condition!”

“Er,” says the receptionist. “Ma’am, would you like to book a—”

But he cannot finish the sentence, for he is too distracted by the way the woman’s breasts jiggle unrealistically. He stammers, then gets up and shows her the way to the emergency room.

“Doctor!” cries the receptionist.

There’s no doctor here, but a nearby male nurse is happy to help. “What is it, Clint?”

“This woman has a terrible condition!” He motions towards the woman, his eyes glancing at her beautiful boobs.

The nurse takes a careful look at her, then nods. “Very well. Please, Clint, close the door on your way out.”

The receptionist leaves the room and closes the door. The nurse turns to the woman. “Please, ma’am, uh… lie down on the… er, bed.” His eyes can’t help but wander towards the woman’s luscious tits every few seconds.

The woman, conveniently unaware of this, lies down on the bed with her legs spread at a perfect 30° angle. Wow, thinks the nurse. What precision! He sighs within his thoughts. My wife is gonna kill me…

He walks up to the bed and gazes into the woman’s azure eyes, which stare back at his hazel ones intently. He sifts her ravishing blonde hair through his warm fingers. “Ma’am,” he whispers professionally, “what is your condition?”

“My condition,” she whispers professionally, “is that I’m too beautiful for this world.” Sorry, I misjudged. She is aware of her beauty. She runs a finger across the nurse’s lips.

“You’re right,” he whispers very professionally. “You are too beautiful for this world.” He snatches a scalpel and jabs it into her flat chest, then begins carving a pentagram onto the flesh.

“Ahhh!” she moans as the blood splashes about the room, forming a puddle on the bedside. “Oh god, not like this!” The nurse continues the ritual, only stopping occasionally to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

A few minutes after the shape is complete, the woman’s flailing turns from vague to slow to suspended, and she lies on the bed motionless, her gorgeous face frozen forevermore in an eternal state of distress. The nurse clears his throat, then pulls up his sleeve to reveal the shape of an hourglass, chiseled deep into his forearm. He presses it and nearly cries from the pain, yet he grits his teeth and stares on.

“CONTUMELIIS AFFICIUNT XAKH’ATH’AKH’ARUS!”

The woman vaporizes and her ravaging body is sent to the Shadow Realm, where it is processed for further evaluation. Hopefully, the nurse thinks to himself as he grabs a mop from the shelf, He shall deem her an adequate sacrifice, and bring about the prophecy.