Things Go Wrong at Guantanamo

Has anyone else noticed the resurgence of popularity of H.P. Lovecraft's work on the internet lately? Like some elder god rising from the depths, his stories ascend through the chthonic miasma of the digital age, bringing him a popularity he's not enjoyed, I suspect, since the first run of Weird Tales. Whether this is due to the emergence of much of his work into public domain, the culmination of popular works by authors such as Brian Lumley or Neil Gaiman, or some bizarre alignment of the stars, I cannot say, nor dare I predict what ineffable doom it spells for our benighted plane of existence.
He's been celebrated as a dildo cozy on Boing Boing, parodied in a webcomic at the Unspeakable Vault of Doom, celebrated by the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society, and represented in his many aspects at Ectoplasmosis (whose "Cthulhu Cthursday is must see internet every week). Leave us not forget that the internet almost collectively wet its pants at the possibility that the monster in Cloverfield was going to be Cthulhu. And you know you've really made it to the top when Tori Spelling stars in an adaptation of your work.
Don't get me wrong, I love a good squamous horror as much as the next being; I just wonder why and how it's come about. Time was when only the most hardcore of nerds or horror fans even knew the name of Lovecraft, now he seems to pervade the net like the shadows that haunt fabled Arkham.
So, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em, I says. I for one would like to welcome our tentacled masters, and here's the proof. Inspired by reading Chapter 2 of Derek Pegritz's "Footnotes to the Human Species", here's my interpretation of how things might play out after dark at a certain well-known prison.....