@_blank_ tell me more about the coaster
The coaster has had a long and storied life. Originally it came into my possession after a chance encounter with a gypsy soothsayer named Trampoline Jones. Trampoline was a former member of the CIA and was tasked with dismantling a group of fascist necromancers called the Cult of the Mantis. He was able to get in deep, and found out the source of their power came from the potions they drank which were a combination of whiskey, corn starch, and the souls of dead soldiers, pulled from the shallow graves.
Anyway, while in attendance with their leader, he witnessed part of his drink spilled from his bejeweled chalice. Implementing his CIA-skills of stealth and cunning, Trampoline Jones was able to abscond with the coaster and took it to the lab for testing. Tragedy however struck when the scientists, unaware of the powers they held in their hands, breached a hole in reality, which allowed a lesser demon into the lab. The demon had its way with the scientists, killing thirteen before returning back to the void. Trampoline Jones, knowing this was his doing, stole the coaster back from the massacre he found and quickly fled. He knew dark forces would have marked him and the Cult of the Mantis would be hot on his trail after his infiltration into their ranks.
Trampoline Jones disappeared off the grid back in 2002. Since then he has become a thorn in the side of all demonic cults nationwide. Back in 2010, he was able to expunge the most of the evil from the coaster as he killed the leader of the Cult of the Mantis with his faithful sidearm, the Tricky Salamander, which fires bullets of explosive holy energy.
But, for all of his good deeds, Trampoline Jones is still a poor man. The Cult destroyed his credit score as well as stole his sick ride. Needing money to buy dried fruit (part of his sanctification ritual), he traded the coaster for a bag of dried apricots.
So now the coaster resides by my work desk, doing all the good things a coaster can do. Sometimes at night though, you can hear the demons of the rift muttering their fetid dirges, waiting for the day they can one day be released. But it's okay, usually I can't hear 'em above the whine of the fridge.
Speaking of, though, I really do like it, especially the stern looking Hulk Hoganchu there in the middle.
