Hi, this is [NAME WITHHELD]’s blogging assistant. She and her S.A.U.C.E. colleagues are still missing, along with the haunted mansion they bought as their new headquarters. I’m not sure when she wrote the entry below. I found it by accident in my Spam folder between “pen15 mightier then sord” and “Payment Due – FINAL NOTICE”

Oh. I should probably do something about that last one.

KNIGHT OF OCTOPUS you will die

Placement: The Negligible Arcana


A kraken attacks a sailing vessel. A tentacle around each of the masts, the creature pulls the ship towards itself. Why a kraken would want a ship is anyone’s guess. Wouldn’t you think they’re the ‘pod, the ‘pod who has everything? They’ve got dories and dinghies aplenty. They’ve got pontoons and schooners galore. You want hovercrafts? They’ve got twenty. So, beware, steer your keel to the shore.

Unlike most Knight cards in tarot, the Knight of Octopus does not at first appear to be riding a horse. With the right microscope and the help of a qualified seer, you will discover that the kraken, in fact, sits upon many thousands of seahorses with miniature saddles and eldritch cutie marks.


Right side up:

Knights are the defenders of the court cards. It is time to make haste, make waves, or at least a cloud of ink. Your weapon is confusion, your ammunition the absurd. Who can hope to defeat you if your plans sound like the gibberish of an espresso-filled parrot? Who can confidently catch you as you wildly flail your limbs? What logic-based androids can withstand your defiant illogic without a fatal error message followed by overheating and permanent shutdown? Your Vulcan companion may raise an eyebrow but you will prevail. Temporarily. In any case, the chaotically creative cause of your demise may earn you a kind of immortality, or at least a tale worthy of Weekly World News.* What is dead may never die.**


Upside down:

Oh, you poor sucker. Your loose lips, unchecked, will not sink ships. Your enemies may misunderstand your methods, but so will your allies. Your petitions, angry letters and revolutionary manifestos might as well be a random splattering of ink. Flailing will not save you from pepper spray, salt spray or the dreaded expired mayonnaise spray. Retreat from the warships of tyranny. Find someone with a cannon or at least better arguing skills. Stand by as they take aim, ready with a tray full of pub-style calamari rings. You are not mighty and this is hungry work.



*This publication died tragically in 2007, but its spirit haunts mainstream journalism today by imbuing the world with dumbfounding real-world events.

**Though they may, of course, lose body parts.


Classic Knight of Octopus deaths:

  • Your face suctioned clean off
  • Zig-zagging off the map
  • Squashed under a python’s foot
  • Rum deficiency
  • “Not sure what happened. Signs of a struggle.”
  • Lethal hug