Hidden in some rather poor prose…which I think has been edited and rewritten…is a description of a creature that might just be up your alley…
Want to have a bash at producing the thing for the hell of it? Could be a bit of fun… If not I shall delete this post.
Poor prose from this point…
The mist locked into the few pages of it’s lair deep within the book, felt and saw the blue light invade it’s dark sanctuary. It understood the gateways inside it’s realm to the other worlds were now once again open to it, but was ignorant of the means of getting there. The swirling movement at the centre of the mist, held within it the sounds of sawing, hammering, and multiple breakfasts being cooked. The mist underwent great change, and the change underwent great change, and so on and so forth.
Inside a newly formed head, twisted, convoluted insane thought ran amuck in wild abandon. A sense of humour only a deranged duck could own floated in amongst the debris of the so-called mind, so recently acquired. Now with the mental age of a half-boiled egg, and the personality of a psychotic
rotting turnip, the lifeform stood revealed within the book. It was not a pretty sight. Surrounded by the stench of itself, the body was that of a loosely connected decomposing one ton breakfast. Every conceivable breakfast was represented, from cereals to sausages, each vying for space in and around the body in an ever moving mass of lumpy vile coloured liquid. Space, what there was of it, was at a premium, for what the lifeform lacked in height was more than compensated for by it’s girth. It stood in an unmatching pair of high-heeled shoes, one lime green, while the other was orange and two sizes too big for the foot. From the narrowness of the feet, up past the ankles, the legs grew in circumference until they reached their origins at the body, here their proportions defied belief. An over-stuffed pair of filthy ripped red pantihose fortunately covered two-thirds of both legs. As attire on the upper body the lifeform had a pink tie with yellow spots of something on it, a filthier pink shirt and a black leather vest. Apparently these articles of clothing began from one of the ample double necks, while never completed their normal fall to just past the waistline. Instead they ended in a ripped mess just south of the
massive armpits.
It’s face had every appearance of being fried in oil for the past decade only to be left half uneaten and discarded to sit crookedly on it’s green bones of support. The one good eye cut a slash of
horror in the cruel slit of red and black across the top of the left
purple and green mouldy cheek. Four white plump maggots made a home in the lime green and yellow eyeless socket, above the green bone of the fleshless right cheek. (In time the lifeform named the maggots;
Spit, Vomit, Belch, and Daphne, and fed them choice pieces of
itself.) The one and only eyebrow the face lay claim to, began at mid-nose and ran upwards at a vicious angle to end in a wild
assortment of various weeping sores, boils, and gangrenous rotting
flesh just above and past the left…ear. Black with fluorescent green tips it grew in matted clumps as the fungi it was composed of
is apt to do. The one odd thing about this eyebrow, apart from the droplets of perpetual perspiration which fell like rain from it’s tips, was the eyebrows ability to wander around the face of this
evil in a worm like fashion. Most of the nose was missing and appeared to be made up of a half eaten sausage embedded in part of a
fried egg. Two exposed nostrils leaked a profusion of yellow, green and red mucus down over the ripped fat top lip, to fall on to, and disappear into the folds of fatty leftovers, the bare bloated stomach held sway
to. The lips, while not generous or in anyway kissable, existed as the frayed edges to a face rip, which was on a slight angle. With the lips inability to seal shut, the gums and teeth of this mess were
constantly revealed. No tooth-brush had ever entered this den of halitosis. Black and broken the eight teeth grew in a cheese culture of neglect, while the wind of decay that is halitosis, liberated
gravity as it crawled out between the lips. Further back into the mouth very near the throat there was movement, barely discernible, but from time to time two yellow eyes could be seen to blink. Two
ears resembling bookends `leaned’ against both sides of the head, both lobes resting on the shoulders of the lifeform, one having the dubious distinction of being pierced by a long bone of indeterminate
origin, and still clinging tenaciously to the bone at one end was a sizeable amount of green, foul, fetid, flesh. Atop the head amongst the warts, boils, and weeping sores, were tufts of long, black, lice infected hair-like fungi.
The lifeform grunted in approval at it’s reflection in the new thought mirror it had created. In a pirouette of motion it
studied itself from all angles, losing a few pounds of unsightly loose mouldy green toast and slime as it did so. Stopping face on to
the mirror it ran a hand through one of it’s tufts of hair, ripping away toast, sphagetti, and a half eaten black sandwich.
It liked what it saw, so it
called itself Handsome Harry.
This will get a penciling first I am sure…Thank you …and I was on my way to bed with a case of the doldrums…now I can smile in my ancient slumber 
You bloody nutter 
