I, Tau Lamed111 swear by everything I hold sacred, that I will not leave this building until I have exorcised the spirit that torments this school and those who labor and study here.
I lit the small votive candle and turned off all the other lights in the room. I then removed my wand from its bag and proceeded banish, purify, consecrate, and seal the room in the following manner:
With the wand, I performed the Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram.
With the wand, I performed the Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Hexagram.
I purified the room by sprinkling the four quarters with holy water, and announced, “This room is purified with water.”
I consecrated the room by approaching the four quarters with the votive candle in hand. With it, I “drew” an equal-armed cross in the air at each quarter, and announced, “This room is consecrated with fire.”
I suffumigated the room by approaching the four quarters with burning rosemary, which I kept igniting from the flame of the votive candle that I carried from quarter to quarter on the lid of the saucepan (which also served as my ashtray).
Returning to the center of the room, I placed the forefinger of my right hand against my lips and took a deep breath. I then forcefully expelled my breath as I swept my hand down in front of me and to the side and back of my body as I shouted, “Apo pantos kakodaimonos!” (Greek for “away [and/or behind me] evil spirits!”)
Upon leaving the newly banished, purified, and consecrated area, I sealed the room by dabbing Oil of Abramelin on my fingertip and “painting” a pentagram upon the inside of the door, and three Tau Crosses (T) on the outside of the door (one each on the left, right, and upper door posts).112 As I drew the Tau Crosses, I whispered the words, “In nomine Babalon Amen. Restriction unto Choronzon!”113
For the next two and a half hours, I systematically repeated these seven steps in every room and hallway of the building I could access. The second to the last area I cleared in this manner was Sister Martha’s office and its adjoining bathroom. I remember thinking she must be a truly good person. Her office was a sane and calm oasis in an otherwise troubled and disturbed universe. I wanted to linger there, but it was getting late and I knew the most difficult part of the evening was still before me.
I sealed Sister Martha’s office with three sweet cinnamon-scented crosses and crossed the hallway to descend into the feng shui hell of the administrative staff area. The place seemed even more terrible than it had just a few short hours ago. I performed the full seven-part ritual inside each tiny cubicle, pausing to read each dossier. It was very difficult (and a little dangerous) wending my way by candlelight through the maze of desks and chairs. After over an hour the smoke from all the burning rosemary became so thick in the enclosed area that I feared it would set off the smoke alarm system. Mercifully, that did not happen.
I came at last to the semi-private office of the vice principal. Here I would resume the evocation that I had put “on ice” so many hours ago back home. Like old Mr. Jacobs, the janitor in my vision, I had swept the filth of the entire building into one neat pile.
I chose this area for the final showdown for several reasons. First, it had the most room for me to work. Second, all of its walls (including the one with the door and windows that opened to the common area) reached from floor to ceiling. It seemed like the nerve center of the problem and the perfect venue to trap a demon. Lastly, I have to confess, I took perverse pleasure in remembering how in my rambunctious school days I had confronted several other rather obnoxious demons in a high school vice principal’s office.
Those of my readers who are experienced magicians can imagine my state of mind after spending so many hours of banishing, etc. Even simple ceremonies such as these raise a remarkable amount of energy and require an intense level of concentration just to hold the visualizations in place. I was physically exhausted yet at the same time psychically energized. Very few times in my magical career had I reached this exalted level of spiritual intoxication. By the time I reached the VP’s office, the borderline between the material and the magical worlds had essentially vanished. To say I was hallucinating would be an understatement. For hours now, my pentagrams and hexagrams had hung visibly in the air around me, and each time I spat out the words, “Apo pantos kakodaimonos!” every spirit entity, good or evil, went scurrying off to anywhere in the building that had not been cleared and sealed off by the wild-eyed exorcist. The only place left for all that concentrated smutch to take refuge was here—and the air in the room hung thick with the stinking demonic chum of the entire building.
I slapped Slug-Shlug’s little Post-it-Note sigil and Triangle on the desk pad of the VP’s desk and stepped back a few feet. I checked to make sure I was still wearing my yarmulke, magical juror’s badge, and the medallion bearing the pentagram and the demon’s sigil. Lastly, I patted the outside of my shirt to assure myself that I was safely wrapped in my magical circle. Everything being in order, I aimed my wand at the Triangle and commanded as before, “Slug-Shlug! Come!
Slug-Shlug appeared immediately—quietly, peacefully, as if only a moment had passed since our last encounter—a large, handsome Norwegian magpie perched pleasantly upon his yellow Post-it Note. I marveled at how normal it all seemed. I was almost happy to see him, grateful for his exotic and dangerous companionship amid this cowed and colorless hell of a Catholic school. His presence made the evening come suddenly
