"Goough...."

Trashlo'or, waiter of the wet floor, demigod of the forgotten and discarded slinks into the gallery of Azathoth and drops a large ton of trash on the floor.

"Oh dear....."

"Uh, Trashlo'or, I didn't know you were still collecting trash. Hmmm this is a tad awkward but.....I've decided I don't need trash anymore."

"My art project was a bit of a failure, but I will still reward you if you need it."

Trashlo'or, waiter of the wet floor, demigod of the forgotten and discarded, stands there and does not speak, as typical.

"You aren't disappointed, are you?"

"Cause I sure am. I spent all this time making a great trash sculpture, only to realize being forgotten is far more devious than being remembered for horrors."

Trashlo'or says nothing.

"Honestly, I'm not sure how I didn't realize this...."

"After all, my mothers make people disappear within the minds of all.....that's obviously worse!"

"I don't know if I'm just stupid, or if I was hoping to do you know, something that wasn't what my mothers are doing. I want to be different, but I'm just trying to reinvent the wheel."

"If I just listened to my mothers, it'd be easier."

"............................."

"I get the feeling you're happy with me the way I am Trashlo'or, waiter of the wet floor, demigod of the forgotten and discarded, but you're one of only two followers I have, and the other one is an intestinal parasite. No offense. I have a lot of friends who are intestinal parasites."

Trashlo'or pushes a can closer to Azathoth.

"Do you want me to continue my artwork?"

"I appreciate the sentiment but.....you know I got you in the middle of my issues with my mothers. I'm not making art. I'm making what will make my mothers happy. And they're never happy with anything I do."

"Do you like collecting trash, Trashlo'or? Or do you do it to please me?"

Trashlo'or starts stacking cans around Azathoth, separating them by color.

"I guess sometimes you do find someone in your life, who you can please, while also pleasing yourself......."

"I think, the next time my mothers (singular) ask me to do something, I will put my foot down and disagree."

"If this is the last time we meet Trashlo'or, I wish for you to know that my mothers has killed me, and removed my memory from existence."

"Not that you would remember me, but, well....."

"You know, I'm always annoyed that people keep saying they remember me....."

With the cans sorted, Trashlo'or turns and leaves.