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I am glad Azazel Shuck's life did not pass

from this earth any time too soon:

he was an inveterate, inimitable Horse's Constiptated Ass,

a spiritual poseur, and, in his lack of verbal skill, a buffoon.

So tempting to think, with a smile, that his soul has been damned;

and into the lowest, worst of Hell's tormenting agonies, slammed,

for all the wish-pissing and monkey smiles that he so slickly shammed.

Starward