crack
Nick Cage looked up from his hairy tome. The demon at the doorway coughed nervously. Nick rose, gently closed his rubric with a satisfying plop, ruffled the monkey hide bound into the cover with a sigh.
Now those were the days.
“The cross-breeding experiments?”
The demon shuffled nervously.
“The cross-breeding experiments with the wolves?”
A puff of sulphur popped from a demonic orifice: “There’s been an issue with in-breeding,” the demon rasped meaningfully. “The wolves are… well, they broken into the sanitary warehouse… The toilet paper…too cute… Oh that crack? That’s the gate.”
“Release the…” roared Nick flamboyantly.
“… puppies”, intoned the demon helpfully.
And popped out of existance, leaving a faint smell of poo.