Logic of RagNaRök: Spew from Oderus Urungus

Good evening, ladies and genitals. My name is Oderus Urungus
For years, you have known me as a slayer of millions and, well, something of a braggart. Well, don't expect me to change because this year I've really got something to brag about!
No, I'm not talking about the number of warts on my flaccid protuberance. I'm talkin' about the end of it all. The apocalypse. Götterdämmerung! Game over, man! I'm talking about doomsday ("Ooh...") in the shape of a flaming mass of space junk the size of Cleveland on a collision course with your hometown. I'm talking about the comet RagNaRök!
But first, just the facts, Jack. It's mid-1999. I know you think it's only 1995, everybody seems to think that. Well, ya know what? You're wrong! Your calendar is wrong. And while we're at it, everything you know is wrong
So, once again. Summer 1999, as Pope John Paul languishes near death in his multi-billion dollar "Pope Bubble" beneath the Vatican, as we party in our recently-completed replacement Antarctic stronghold, and as the humans grovel in the streets, a giant glowing orb is sighted in the heavens. Growing in size and fury every day, top and bottom scientists examine the nature of the phenomena and conclude the mass is a giant meteor, or a big rock for you chowderheads out there. Halfway along its beeline to an appointment with downtown L.A. and the subsequent annihilation of the planet Earth
The media was quick to dub this blundering boulder "RagNaRök". You may ask, "Why?" ("What is this?") And I might tell you if you weren't such a worthless piece of camel poop. But I suppose I have to, as the point of this asinine tape is to be informative and congenial, which is quite a task when you're as filled with hateful, bitter bile as I am! Heh...
"RagNaRök" is the ancient Norse vikings', you dummy, legend of the end of the world, literally the "Twilight of the Gods". Hmm...I don't know if I like the sound of that. Anyway, it's also got the word "rock" in it, even if it's spelled wrong. Not wanting to "miss the boat", so to speak, we quite cleverly named our album "RagNaRök". Then we went and named ourselves "RagNaRök", creating untold confusion. Then we realized that was a stupid idea so we renamed ourselves "Pimply Perlman And His Tubesteak Rangers". Then we realized there were ten other bands named that, so we're just plain old "GWAR" again! Now, can I get back to the point please? Actually, I don't know if I can or not, but here goes
Of course, GWAR is ecstatic. For though this rock possesses more than enough destructive force to pulverize the planet, to us it represents a chance to fulfill one of our most grandiose...repeating failures yet. Yes, escaping this pathetic planet once and for all. For, as the comet smashes this world into bits, we shall leap onto its husk. And then, riding it using convenient...comet saddles...we shall escape your miserable planet!
Now that your fate has been spelled out for you in terms that a Mongolian yak herder could understand with ease even with popsicles rammed into his ears, you may be asking yourself: "Well gee, Mr. Giant Rubber Monster Guy, what am I supposed to do now?" ("Get to the choppa!") Do you trust the government and buy their lies about how the comet is going to...miss? ("[???]") Do you trust your new "Warrior Pope" ("Sieg Heil!") Julius II, who claims the rock is none other than some "God" guy trying desperately to achieve a "second coming"? ("Oh yeah") Or, perchance, you'll heed your mother's plaintive requests to cease your furry-palmed diddlings of one's self, come downstairs, and mount the family dog in full view of your jeering neighbors?
Well, go ahead, as long as you are a complete and utter loser! But there is a path that none but the brave may tread. A path littered with empty beer cans, bloated corpses, and soiled undergarments. The path of the RagNaRök-er, that elite mob of ravening weirdos who follow the gay whim of their lords and creators, GWAR! Unafraid, this pillaging army comes in the wake of the carnage GWAR brings! This path ends on December 31, 1999, or whenever our tour comes to your town, as we hold one last great celebration to commemorate our time spent on this seething mudball. This party shall culminate in the mushing of your world as RagNaRök plows into this cursed orb, unleashing untold chaos and carrying us back to the stars!
Act now to ensure yourselves a place at the top of the heap. Get our new album RagNaRök! Fanatically digest every scrap of GWAR lore. Oh and you know, don't eat that copy of Slave Pit Funnies, read it! And if ya can't read, look at the pictures! Then and only then...can you eat it. And then and only then will you be ready for the kneecap-splitting, brain-bubbling, undie-soiling, magnanimous efficicance that is RagNaRök!