[ WP ] While putting your favorite condiment on a sandwich , you accidentally draw a symbol that summons demons .

What the bloody hell was my boss thinking? 
 
 Three bloody times I could've shot that damned Frilled Ostritch-Dragon and solve all our manufacturing problems with a nice chicken sandwich, but she just could n't dream of me hunting alone on the job. No, I'd be a `` liability,'' a `` cause for suspicion,'' a `` mad gunman killing off the last of a species and throwing piss at all the witnesses.'' *Witnesses*. *Witnesses* casually taking a stroll in the GODDAMN BLOODY OUTBACK. But whatever. Because of corporate legal bollocks, I have to teach a fat, impatient Russian shitebrain that animals can hear his `` manly gun'' from miles away and can run faster than his war-crime of a gun can even rev up. 
 
 And *Jeremy*. By Hale, Jeremy. If I had a dime for every time I almost strangled that little ankle-biter, I would n't be sittin' here taking odd jobs from this piss-stain of a company in the first place. The wanker poured out my decaf and filled the coffee cupboard with his cancer-ridden energy drinks, mistook one of my piss jars for the same god-awful sugar cans in the dark and *accused me of flattening his drinks*, and **taunted the bloody animal we were hired to skin** because he thought it smart to piss it off until it challenged us, as well as other displays of dumbassery I do n't care to list. 
 
 Anyway, it's been a day since my last meal, so I figured I'd take a break. Let's see here... fried chicken. Disgusting, it's not even sealed. A ham sandwich. Maybe, but I know there's more here. Sautéed frog legs with quiche. Who even brought that rubbish here? My ostritch leg is gone. Bloody hell, Jeremy. Eat your own dried-out drumsticks. Ah well, boring sandwich it is, then. 
 
 I sat down and set my plate on the floor, and took out my jar of vegemite and looked for a knife. After finding a dinky little butterfly knife I started spreading the nectar of Australia over the top slice when I had a bright idea. Bloody awful, actually, but I figured there was n't any harm in scribbling the symbol that dress-wearing fellow tried to treaten me with last Halloween. I folded the sandwich after getting bored of my doodles, but before I could take a bite, the ham started smoking! I dropped the sandwich immediately as it crumbled in dark brown fire. After a few seconds, a hand reached out as a fat, mushtached imp-lookin' fellow climbed out of nowhere and glared at me. 
 
 `` **COWER IN FEAR, PUNY MORTAL. YOUR WIZARDRY MAY HAVE SUMMONED ME TO YOUR REALM, BUT IT CAN NOT BEND ME TO YOUR WILL. I AM TAZMATICUS, DEMON LORD OF THE HUNT, MUSTACHES, DROP-BEARS, AND ALL THINGS AUSTRALIAN. BOW BEFORE MY MIGHT AND YOU MAY BE SPARED, YOU FILTHY, NEW ZEALAND-BORN SHEEPHUGGER. **'' 
 
 Well, he would n't be the worst boss I've had, but piss if I'll let this drama queen try to scare *me* into submission. 
 
 `` Hold on there, mate. You come here in a blaze of smoke, scare off all the game within a mile around, ruined my sandwich just because I smeared my vegemite the wrong way, and I'm in ***your*** debt? Give me my three wishes or rack the hell off, wanker.'' 
 
 He gave an offended look as if he could n't fathom that I might actually have a problem with his highborn dickery, but before he could retort, the King of Whiny Pricks barged in to complain about me the third time since the day started. 
 
 `` Yo, Snipes, I know you do n't really get it, being a freakin' vampire or whatever, but some of us like not being awake at 2 in the mor- **OH MY GOD OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING**'' 
 
 As the fat bogan barked at Jeremy, he immediately ran off, screaming at the top of his lungs like a baby, as he usually reacted to dirty animals he had n't seen before. 
 
 `` **YOU ARROGANT DIRT-SACK. YOU SHOULD BE GRATEFUL I HAVE N'T WIPED YOU OUT OF EXISTENCE BY NOW, AND YOU EXPECT ME TO SERVE YOU? YOU DO N'T OWN ME, KIWI! **'' 
 
 And with that, I lost it. I pulled open the cupboard next to the coffee stash, grabbed a jar of Mundy's Finest, and hurled it at the breakfast-hoppin' mongrel. As he squealed in disgust, knowing exactly what I put in that jar, I retorted: 
 
 `` *I DO NOW, SAVGAGGLER! *'' 
 
 `` **You... You're *psychotic*. I'll do anything you want, just do n't pick up any more of those jars. **'' 
 
 About time I got my three wishes. 
 
 `` Alrighty then. You said you're a demon of the hunt, right? I've got a quick, annoying little bugger I've been hired to bag, and I have n't been able to kill it without my coworkers scaring it off.'' 
 
 `` **Very well. One dead, fast, annoying creature, coming up. **'' 
 
 Just then, Jeremy cracked open the door and asked, 
 
 `` I- Is he gone? Please tell me he's gone, whatever he is.'' 
 
 I turned back to the monster, and added, 
 
 `` Make that two, please.'' 
 
 Edit: tyops 
 
 Edit edit: changed kilometres to miles because Australia did n't start the switch to the metric system until 1970
