The Gibbering Bastard
Little bastard, cowardly ass, cancer wretch, nonsense screecher, filth monger, target practice, thieving prick, the gods sense of humour. Hated by all, loved by noone the disgusting little snot green gremlin.
With an comically large mouth filled with razor sharp needle teeth. A long hooked nose tipped with a bulbous wart. Knobbly long strangler hands ill fitting for one so small. Yellow beady watery eyes, like two half cracked eggs yolks. And a voice of sandpaper dragged over a salt block. Tinny and high-pitched, so grating even saints start to wrap hands around neck.
And what a voice, screeching every hate filled idea that pops into its head. Every syllable pregnant with venom. Anything it can use as ammunition in its verbal assault. And when it has thoroughly annoyed the hell out of a target it draws them in further. Those hands are brilliant at tinkering, every nasty little creation to be tested.
Inflated bladders of excrement, dropped jars of centipedes, compacted cobwebs of fishing line and hooks, mind altering fungi bombs, thrown frozen vomit, flocks of foul fowl unleashed down corridors. A genius mind unfortunately fascinated with causing pain. The disgusting emerald wretch, the gibbering bastard.
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