Children will always be afraid of the dark, and men with minds sensitive to hereditary impulse will always tremble at the thought of the hidden and fathomless worlds of strange life which may pulsate in the gulfs beyond the internet, or press hideously upon our own globe in unholy dimensions which only the dead and the Onionstruck can glimpse.
Outside the ordered YouTube-verse is that amorphous blight of nethermost confusion which blasphemes and bubbles at the center of all infinity—the boundless demon-sultan Onision, whose name no lips dare speak aloud, and who gnaws hungrily in inconceivable, unlighted chambers beyond time and space amidst the muffled, maddening beating of vile drums and the thin monotonous whine of his accursed spouse.
It is absolutely necessary, for the peace and safety of mankind, that some of earth's dark, dead corners and unplumbed depths be let alone; lest sleeping abnormalities wake to resurgent life, and blasphemously surviving nightmares squirm and splash out of their black lairs to newer and wider conquests.
The world is indeed comedic, but the joke is on mankind.
When told of the monstrous nuclear chaos beyond angled space which the Onionomicon had mercifully cloaked under the name of Onision, most would shudder and probe the matter no further. It was in April of 2019 that Claw began a terrible pilgrimage to seek the nighted throne of the far demon-sultan Onision. In consulting the Onionomicon, he learned that he must meet the Banana Man, and go with him to the throne of Onision at the centre of ultimate Chaos. He must sign in his own blood the book of Onision and take a new secret name (DeadwingDork). When it came time to meet this horror face-to-face, what kept him from going with the Banana Man to the throne of Chaos where the strange, child-grooming wives whine mindlessly was the fact that he had seen the name 'Onision' in the Kiwi Farms Chronicles, and knew it stood for a primal horror too horrible for description.