One of the more telling pieces of evidence that your guru, spiritual teacher, Chief Adept, Mother Witch, Supreme Shaman, or whatever term that you call them, might be a murdering bitch or bastard is the stuff that keep in their car trunk (or boot as those initiates across the pond refer to it).
Now as previously mentioned, or maybe not, for the author is typing this story up completely out of order, chances are that your guru is innocent and has absolutely no desire to kill the Great Gherkin. Like the Great Gherkin’s least favorite critic has no real desire to murderize the Great Gherkin; after all, if he did that, he would lose one of his long standing jokes on his blog. For the critic pounding out one in the morning rage tweets and blogs, it is counter-productive to knock off the Great Gherkin. And as a completely innocent bystander, despite his apparent loathing for the Great Gherkin, one should not judge the rather sharp ax that the critic has in his car trunk as anything more than a handy tool that serves a humble purpose, just like the ten pound bag of cat litter (non-chumping), the dozen roman candles (as long as you don’t light them in Colorado, they are completely legal), several large bones (probably from a cow, or maybe a goat—it is hard to tell with such things), and the large plastic tarp. All these items have completely innocent purposes, and in no way should imply that the Great Gherkin least favorite critic might be a potential serial ax murderer who lights up the night’s sky with fireworks to celebrate his latest hatching.
Likewise, the fact that one of the Great Gherkin’s greatest buds, the Amazing Kitchen Sink, has five guns (a Luger, a sawed-off shotgun, a M16, a Colt 45, and what looks suspiciously like a fully automatic machine gun), five boxes of assorted ammo, five weeks of survival rations, five blocks of C4, and his five favorite porn magazines in his trunk, in no way should be used to argue that the Amazing Kitchen Sink is just a Waco waiting to happen, not alone arguing that he might be the guilty party that wants to see the Great Gherkin riddled with bullet holes. After all, there are completely reasonable explanations for these items, including being a doomsday prepper who suspects that the President of the United States is going to start a global nuclear war (probably by nuking Chicago to keep its murderers from escaping justice), long weekend hunting trips searching for heavily armed terrorist dragons, and collecting on million dollar debts.
A far more suspicious car trunk belongs to the ceremonial magic gurus, Kitty and Chuck Agrippa. In it, you will find a bag of cat food, several Tarot decks, a spare tire, some road flares, and a battered copy of Thelema and the Necronomicon, all of which points to their fleecing of little old ladies of all their money before forcing them to eat cat food and rolling them downhill while the little old ladies hold lit road flares, and the evil magical couple recite dark prayers to their dreaded dark lord, Cthulhu. We know that this is totally and completely true because the Great Gherkin himself, using the internet handle trollking93, revealed the Agrippa’s crimes to the world one wet and stormy August night, along with the fact that the entirety of the Agrippa’s lodge membership were paid CIA Freemasons trying to destroy his own esteemed Order—after all, if you can’t trust the Great Gherkin, who can you trust? In fact, the lying and perverted Agrippas are probably the ones that hired an assassin to whack the Great Gherkin—and if not, at the very least, they fully support the endeavor.
Another likely miscreant is the sock puppet known as Sister Seuss, who keeps in her trunk, some technical manuals, a bong, a couple of old coats, a copy of The Numpty Hater Grimoire, and some freeze dried bacon. All of these items are suspicious and point to a diseased mind, and are especially worrisome given that her real identity, Falcon Wilde, also has a trunk filled with awful things: some barb wire, some loose hay, a battered saddle, a broken laptop, and a buck fifty in Canadian quarters. One must agree that both the pseudonym, as well as the actual flesh and blood person, are both completely out of their numpty hating minds, as well as likely suspects for wanting to see the Great Gherkin thrown out of an airplane without a parachute, thanks to the items that he…she…it keeps in their two trunks.
And before we leave this subject, a subject that one must be fully aware of, if one wants to avoid bad gurus and the evil machinations of your own grandmother (we have seen the contents of her car trunk—she is completely evil), let’s take a look at the car trunks of two of the most famous Big Name Occultists to ever live—Buddha Night and the Living Devil. Buddha Night, the fabulous warlock of Arkham and entertaining late night talk show guest, has several dildos (but no lube), some motor oil (oh, there is lube), a jade thing-a-bob, some press releases, and a thousand autographed headshots—all of which is suspicious and just slightly weird. His partner in crime, the most famous black magician of all, the Living Devil has several plastic tarps painted with nonsensical names and symbols, a fake human skeleton, a map of the great state of Nevada (which is worrisome, given that he lives in Texas), a couple of gallons of Kool-Aid (in his kid’s favorite flavor), and absolutely no drugs—all of which deserve a whispered call to the FBI and Homeland Security.