The Romans read the future in the entrails of birds and other sacrificial animals. Well I’ll base my augury on the outer surface of one particular twenty five pound bird.
Other signs are equally favorable
I predict a successful encounter with the forces of gluttony.
AUGGHHH!- Brussels Sprouts! No Brussels Sprouts please! I’ll confess whatever you want but anything but the sprouts— Gag, sob!
The beatings will continue until the sprouts have been eaten.
They are the Great Old One’s curse on Mankind for their disloyalty and disobedience!
It’s a funny thing. Cthulhu feels the same way about having to eat bureaucrats and IRS agents.