“In the swirling haze of a dimension unbound by mortal comprehension, a grotesque maw, slick with drool, yawns hungrily as countless tendrils writhe outward in restless search. The nebulous mists part only enough to reveal the suggestion of form—too vast, too obscene to endure in full. And yet, upon its emergence, a single thought reverberates through the void: ‘Where’s my coffee?!’”

“It stares with writhing tentacles, smiling a despicable smile of almost endless teeth as it sits upon its throne…with judgement behind its gaze.”

“It festers in the dark beyond comprehension, a bloated mass of writhing textures and malignant purpose. Its eyes, slick and unblinking, glisten with a knowing hunger—patient, ancient, and terribly aware. Beneath layers of bruised and glimmering flesh, its mouth yawns with rows of rotted teeth, as if grinning at some cosmic joke no man should ever hear. It does not move, yet it watches; it does not speak, yet it waits”.