Once there was a man. An OH SO POWERFUL man. Whose name was spoken both with glee and fear, tact and rakish garrisry. Yes, I said garrisry. A man whose heart beats a thousand times, every moment. Whose blood boils at his fingertips, yet is refreshingly cool and does that thing like dentyne, where it's all tingly and frosty-feeling at his palms. His eyes, not unlike those of an eagle, can bore through wood, and similarly organic surfaces, to gaze through people's skin, into their most deadly fears... somehow. His hair, shining with a glossy finish, brings genuine smiles to the faces of frightened, lost children and cold, shrewd businessmen alike. If this man should part his lips, your eyes will be burned from their sockets in a most brilliant, searing hot ray of white shininess. For this reason, he is the world's finest ventriloquist. His voice, even when dampened by his tight shut mouth carries with it the melodies of nineteen seperate and independently tuned string instruments. His vocal cords are made of licorice, both red and black, making his voice a vessel for the most unique and delicious tasting sounds a person an hear. His eyelashes were used in the space-race missions. I don't know how, all I know is that they were crucial. When this man saunters at a leisurely pace into town, all pets within a nine km radius dig up the bones and old hotdogs they've buried and consume them. There's both a malevolence and a charm to him. No one has EVER underestimated this man. The air around him sparkles and can power wristwatches and ipods. Once, he touched a frozen block of butter, peeled back the foil and it had turned into marbled cheese, which he then proceeded to make nachos with. They were the best nachos mankind had ever bore witness to. The colour of his eyes have never been determined, for no one has had the courage to look him in the eyes. He has met everyone at some point of time or another. Everyone. Timeless, he saunters. One cold Sunday you'll meet him.