As I, Igor, sat in my dimly lit lair, surrounded by the detritus of a thousand midnights, I pondered the grandest of questions: "What is the meaning of it all?"
I scoured the dusty shelves of my library, searching for answers. I found a tattered tome bound in black leather, adorned with cryptic symbols that shone like tiny, malevolent stars in the darkness.
As I opened the book, the pages rustled, releasing a faint scent of decay and forgotten knowledge. I began to read, my eyes scanning the yellowed pages as the words danced before me like a macabre waltz.