That branch of the family was always given to exaggeration). Most of them were a-, bi-, or trisexual, and old Ia! Shub Niggurath has at least a thousand young, or so it says. (I am freely translating for you here, Whateley, you understand. Myself, he said, Azathoth, Yog-Sothoth, Nyarlathotep, Tsathogghua, Ia ! Shub Niggurath, young Yuggoth and a few others. One more question like that and I'll find someone else to relate my memoirs to. I don't use either of my mouths in communicating with you, do I? Very well then. Now that is a stupid question, even for you Whateley. It meant that he did not intend to dine that visit, and that we could talk. It was that Tuesday that my Uncle Hastur slithered down to my part of the swamp with his jaws fused. I will not reach that stage until after my next estivation your piddly little planet will long be cold by then). I spent most of my time creeping up on things and eating them and in my turn avoiding being crept up on and eaten.Īnd then one day - I believe it was a Tuesday - I discovered that there was more to life than food. I did not like this, of course, for I was the colour of a young trout and about four of your feet long. I spent my first few thousand years in those swamps. Which reminds me, did they remember to feed the shoggoth? I thought I heard it gibbering. Squirming my way out of my mother, the gamy taste of her still in my tentacles.ĭon't look so shocked, Whateley.

My father was consumed by my mother as soon as he had fertilized her and she, in her turn, was eaten by myself at my birth. I remember that on the night it finally exploded we all slithered down to the beach to watch. Our place had a sun of sorts, but it was old, even back then. On some nights it filled over half the sky and as it rose you could watch the crimson blood drip and trickle down its bloated face, staining it red, until at its height it bathed the swamps and towers in a gory dead red light. It wasn't the moon of this planet, of course, it was a real moon. Write it as it sounds), of nameless nightmare parents, under a gibbous moon. I was spawned uncounted aeons ago, in the dark mists of Khhaa'yngnaiih (no, of course I don't know how to spell it. Are you writing this down? Every word? Good.

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