The road to hell is paved with tenderloin

I was walking amidst the demons and politicians of yesterday,
along the stoney bridge to hell.
I promised the devil I'd be in-time for lunch,
I had to hurry for the traffic in Newark had made me late.

As I strolled with the vile evil beings;
fat, pasty skin peeling from their wicked souls,
I asked, "What's for lunch?"

On oversized under-needed cretin cried out, "THIS IS HELL! YOU GET TURNIPS!"
I said "Turnips are lovely this time of the year, and your soil is so lush from all this shit."

A lovely old lady from Wisconsin spoke up. "Today boy-o you will eat haggis!"
"Ah wonderful" said I. For it had been quite sometime since I had haggis.

"Fermented Shark! Ludafisk!" Cheered the blond beasts from Minnesota and such.
"A bit of shit on a vomit cracker!" Screamed Mussolini and Hitler.
Who since their marriage have become quite the gentle beings.

"GUTS AND BITS OF FISH AND FOUL!" Howled the gringo in the back.
A buddhist priest placed a single grain of rice in my hand and bowed away.

All good experiences in the strange and unusual my dear friends. And a bit of self control surely will do me good.

And at that moment Rintrah, the lord Beelzebub himself, came forward. Pushing his minions and patrons aside.
And placing a table before me adorned in the flesh of a thousand Rock-Gods he proclaimed in his evil booming voice,
"TODAY WE DINE ON THE TENDERLOIN!"