I wait alone in my abyssal room, closed off from the rest of Nowhere's pelagic envelope. My fist... it can punch. My foot... it can kick. In essence I am the perfect punching an kicking machine. And so I wait... wait for a true contender to defeat in combat so that I may rightly wear this awesome crown. And I've eaten to stay alive for all these years of waiting. I've eaten my own ever-replicating red spheres of nutrition. I am yummy for my own tummy.

Be still my cheese clogged heart, my chest goes thumpa thumpa at the very sight of this Adonis wrought in pink fur. His lips must taste of the highest grade Parmesan. What depths do his perfect orbits reach hidden behind those dramatically awesome shades? Can such a mouse be truly faithful to one woman? Or is his heart truly unobtainable and untamable? Perhaps this bad boy image is why I have pledged him every fibre of my being. Perhaps... the rebelliousness inherent to his character is even more beautiful than his perfect hair. Sigggghhhhhhh....