Chapter 6
Voldemort waited in the shadows of a barn somewhere in Kentucky.
Damn. He thought. I really need to go to the bathroom and I haven't seen that satanic cult anywhere. How to I summon an ancient magical girl superhero team if I have nobody who knows how to ask Satan for help? It's like I can't catch a break. Oh, well. At least Suzan agreed to come here with me. As long as we don't make any noise, any listening members of the government won't know I'm here and I won't have to-
"Wow, Christ on a bike, is that a Jersey Cow! I've NEVER seen one before now!" Suzan exclaimed at what seemed to an already stressed and on-edge Voldemort like full volume. "Look, Lord Voldemort! This one is beige! Did you know that while the females usually weigh 400-500 kilograms according to WikipediaDespiteTheFactThatWikipediaDoesNotExistYet but the males can weigh 540 to 820 kilograms?!"
Oh, god, I didn't know she knew anything about cows Voldemort thought. This is a huge risk. He then looked at the fifth cow on the right. I bet it's your fault, fifth cow on the right. Steal my senpai, will you? I'll abra-kadabra you dead when this is done, you… you… uh, cow! Yeah, you're a cow! Literally! Hah!
"Oh, hey Voldemort, your friends are here!" Cheered his assistant. Voldemort turned to see a collection of hoods and robes in black and red fills, borders and patterns. Except, of course, for Jerry, standing in the back, who forgot it was Thursday and had his green and blue robes instead. The rest of them didn't mind, though. Everyone makes mistakes. They were a very accepting satanic cult.
"Hey, man, are you OK? You look pretty pale. Also, is your nose missing?" Said Roger, who had drawn the longest straw and got to be leader for the day, and choose where they had lunch.
"Yes and yes."
"So you're… OK despite your missing nose?"
"Yes." replied Voldemort again.
"Uh, sure." continued Roger. "So, are you the guy? Voldemort?"
Voldemort stood still for five seconds. "Yes." he said.
"Oh, good. So, uh who did you want to summon? Something about boats, or-"
"Not boats, but sailors. But also not sailors. It's just a name." Voldemort suggested. "I am referring to a team of magical girl superheroes lost to the sands of time known as the Sailor Scouts. They should be able to help me defeat and/or kill John F. Kennedy, who plans to kill all wizards."
"Ah," replied the day's leader, "I see. So it would also be beneficial to us to help, because that means he wants to kill us in our satanic cult, too, right?"
"Yes" Said the Dark Lord. "Also, please don't stand in the open door like that. It's like, super obvious you're here. You should come inside."
The multitude of darkly clad "Devil-Worshippers" filed into the barn as Voldemort and Suzan closed the doors and latched them. The cult looked at the intricate series of recursive pentagrams and other shapes inside each other, and were very impressed indeed. Voldemort had obviously studied. This particular design wasn't even discovered until the Dark Wizard Morticus created it on accident in the midst of an amphetamine-fueled rage trip. In that case, he (Morticus) had accidentally spilled a bottle of Tylenol ™ on it and cured his addiction. His wife had already left, of course, so Morticus had plenty of time to document and study the shape and behavior of the new design.
Voldemort and Suzan donned their cloaks to match everyone but Jerry, who, as stated before, had not known it was Thursday. They and the cult dumped lamb's blood, burning barstools and severed toes(from what they knew not) into the Pentagram-Plus-Ornamentation. Voldemort looked through storage chest No. 5 and realized something.
"We don't have a Satanic bible!" he blurted out, worried.
"Oh, no worries," Said Steven. "You can do a chant from any book. They all work for this one, really."
Voldemort got out the nearest book he could find. It was just another one of his trashy teen vampire romance novels, which he didn't really read or anything and had nothing to hide about because he had absolutely no idea what is was doing in one of the chests he brought to the barn.
He read the first two sentences and was cut short when Bill projectile vomited in disgust. Voldemort decided that was enough and threw the book into the fire made of burning stools, just as the procedure required. They all stood back, said "YOLO MCSWAGGINS" collectively, and watched the lightshow as the summoning ritual proceeded on its own.