Kartikeya slathered his metal fuckfist in the blood of the puny, pathetic human boy its titanic grip hath crushed while his father screamed for naught. Relishing the flavor of the child's ruined essence, Kartikeya punched the fuck out of his mother, sending her pitiful mortal jaw flying to the red moon, slicing it in half. He shoved his iron fist up her vagina and fired a lock-on death from within, obliterating the fuck out of her, the shrapnel slathering Kartikeya and his puny human nemesis. Greg drunk his wife's blood, filling him with unfettering rage. His fists caught fire and his eyes became explosions. Kartikeya laughed.

Kartikeya's laugh of maniacal cacophony summoned a meteoric swarm, which was the remnants of the once great Hyades. The meteors crushed the shit out of Greg, leaving in their wake a mere pile of ashes which smelled of blood explosions and ruined guts.

Kartikeya lept upon a passing Veruni ship and punched a gaping, fiery hole in it. He removed the pilot, who was a poet, and an investor well-versed in Filgaia's notably frail economy. He was once known as Gregory House, but since his home world was obliterated by Kartikeya's most explosive masturbation habits, he relocated to Filgaia and took on the Veruni alias Houser IDFK_9001. Houser and Kartikeya shared a lively and passionate dialogue about the wonders of prosthetics. Houser, whose prosthetic right leg was forged from the corpses of golems like Kartikeya's arm, kicked Ragu O Ragla's head off. Kartikeya summoned his peacock, flew to the Locus Solus, then punched a nuke through its skull, killing the fuck out of it. The Locus Solus' shrapnel killed the fuck out of the TF System, whose shrapnel killed the fuck out of Laila Belle. The TV Studio Employee survived, though. He went on to become Filgaia's first lawyer, and he would open a restaurant which served pieces of Hyades sauteed in Sol Niger blood. But it was still vegetarian.

Fereydoon shouted at Kartikeya and Houser, inviting them to dinner. It was quite a lavish feast, the exquisitely prepared dishes brimming with delectable aroma and flavor. Kartikeya laughed.

"I hate food! I want human!" he tore Lucille's ribcage out, devouring the massive splatter of viscera which ensued. He relished the succulent flavor of the half-Fereydoon fetus she had yet to discover she was carrying. Houser sampled her decimated liver, storing some of the oil in a vial for use as a trump card should the horses develop a taste for Veruni flesh. He pondered Kartikeya's psychological dysfunction.

Summoning his cane from the ruins of Hyades, Houser cracked Kartikeya across the helmet with such resounding force, the helmet shattered and the shockwave knocked him unconscious. He withdrew his marker and, using Kartikeya's arm as a whiteboard, worked out a possible diagnosis.

"Brain cancer could cause racist thoughts and psychosis."

"No moron, you're stupid. It's not brain cancer, it's braintermites."

"But braintermites don't exist."

"Moron, do you dare question me? Braintermites are an alien disease which clearly exist on this fucked up planet. Do an MRI."

Houser ate the voices in his head and regurgitated them into the form of an MRI machine. He tore Kartikeya's prosthetics right the fuck out so they would not explode in a flaming ball of death and agony from the machine's fagmagnets. The MRI revealed that Kartikeya did not have braintermites, but rather fuckatitis v, contracted when Volsung mauled the fuck out of him during his pitifully failed assault, causing him to experience his first wet dream involving the Ice Queen. It explained why his psyche took a turn for the worse afterward, but he had racist thoughts and was somewhat mad before that. Houser was so furious at having been only half-right, he set his hair on fire and bisected Filgaia with his cane. Houser ate Gounon and Twelbit, then sutured the hemispheres back together, curing Filgaia of its disease and allowing plant life to flourish once again. But fuckatitis v continued to ravage the Veruni.

Houser reinstalled Kartikeya's metal upgrades just in time for him to reawaken. They shared a delightfully misanthropic conversation, followed by a brofist of skin and steel. Houser thought of Hyades, a tear of nostalgia filling his bluishly blue eye. He popped a Vicodin, for his prosthesis was young and the amputation still smarted. Kartikeya laughed.