Tie-dye Lord Scum logo above possessed eyes with swirling red pupils.
The unholy Book of Scum, covered in green ooze preserving a demonic face.


The Book of Scum contains ancient hymns and pukecantations scrawled by the apostles of Lord Scum.

Smoke billows out of a kneeling man's eyes and mouth as he kneels before a decrepit altar covered in skulls, beer bottles, and pizza.

Now I Lay Me Down To Spew

The altar glows like a kaleidoscope, from broken bottle stained-glass windows. A beacon for those who call themselves Scum, beyond the smoke lies the kingdom of mud.

Rivers of slime, oceans of ooze, a paradise for the ones that spew. Scumleaf grows on every tree, and every pond is filled with algae.

Inhale communion from The Putrid One. The leaves his hair, the pipe his lungs. Close your eyes and recite the oath. Lord Scum take me to your home.

Now I lay me down to spew, I give Lord Scum my soul to you. If I should die before I puke, throw me in the sea of ooze.

The pond is hazy, the slime begins to rise. The ground is shaking, the water opens wide. The whirlpool's swirling, our ride's arrived. The master's calling, it's time to dive.

A green-winged cyclops oafishly reigns scumageddon upon the city's skyscrapers under an oozen moon.


Send word to the afterlife, the bloody slaughter begins tonight. Written in The Book Of Scum, you knew we were the chosen ones. Revelations do prophesize, Pond Scum brings the end of time.

Dark Times have just begun. Green blood covers up the sun. You’ll puke until you die. The mighty Lord Scum arise!!!

...and eat the faithful ones, alive...

Oceans of ooze shall cover the land, you’ll feel the touch of his burning hand. Your eyes’ll melt and your organs pour, onto Lord Scum’s killing floor.

Within the Stankor's pit, the horned beast shadows over an eviscerated dude with a Pond Scum shirt on. His buddy is next...

Pit Of The Stankor

Decaying pastures under its feet, sent by The Master. The oozen fiend has been unleashed, the skull basher.

There's nowhere to run. The battle has begun. Time to shed blood. Trapped inside the...

Wicked caster of plague and disease, fetid bastard. Cavern of teeth, become its feast, your soul captured.

Pit of the Stankor

You're gonna die...

Two robed skeletons holding sacred bongs frame the pagan symbol of the scumleaf.


On the banks of the pond grows the scumleaf, you can smell it strong. Its strange powers are known to all, but only Pond Scum heed the call.

Scumleaf you're my only love, there cannot be another. Scumleaf burning in my mind, smoke of many colors.

I see its ember burning bright, smoke the scumleaf every night. Haze surrounds me, you think I'm dumb. You can't stop me, I am Pond Scum.

The Necromancer's long hair and beard flow across his face as he holds his skull-staff high and flips you the middle finger.

Necromancer Of The Pond

See the blind man in his mossy cloak. Feel the bile rising in your throat.

He’s the Warlock of Filth
He’s the Wizard of Scum
Necromancer of The Pond

You're binded to his will. For Lord Scum you will kill. His evil deeds fulfilled.

Smell his aura as it coats your lungs. Hear his mumbles in forgotten tongues.

Magic herbs let him see the dead, blowing smoke to resurrect. Rotted corpses and piles of bones, reanimated for the Demon Lord!

Smoking an emerald bong on the banks of the pond is a wise-looking robed skeleton.

Where The Black Scumleaf Grows

Where the black scumleaf grows, mortals have lost their souls. Stench drifting from the pond, follow the sirens' song. Reaching the water’s edge, breathe in the pestilence. Fumes swirling in your head, nauseas; delirious.

Stumble closer, the water’s warm.
Let it take you, and be reborn.

Mold growing on your bones, spores in your ventricles. Slime replaces your blood, transform into Pond Scum.

Where the black scumleaf grows

The water’s calling...

Where the black scumleaf grows

In his four hands: a club, a 40, a joint, and the reigns of a dragon-beast, a cyclops warrior flies into battle towards the throned glutton.

All Hail Lord Scum

Smoker of the scumleaf, drinker of the sacred ooze. Summoned by the high priest, arise from your sunken tomb.

Rider of the slime beast, floating on the black foam. Savior of the unclean, sit upon the scum throne.

Minions of The Deeper One, purging to become saved. Bowels of repugnance, the dawning of a new plague.

All Hail Lord Scum

All Hail Lord Scum, worship The Putrid One. Awakened by ancient slime, be reborn.

The green horned-demon, Lord Scum, sits upon his cracked throne within his cavernous den. Smoke billows from his eyes as he exhales a cloud from his crimson bong.