[Halloween 2009] "Welcome to my collection little one, I almost left you in my belly too long. Please pardon the mess, I'll wash up shortly. Some great wyrms collect gold, but I prefer bones. Each skull has its own scent, flavour, and memories. A trophy pile singing the praises of my glory. You should be honoured, little one. At the very least, you were particularly delicious."

[Halloween 2009] It is not enough that they took my body, now they seek my mind. Three of them pressing on me, when I cannot even handle one. Vicious mental torture meant to twist the individual. They could do it instantly, without struggle. But then, they wouldn't enjoy it.

[Halloween 2009] "You... make man?" "No. Woman." The immature perversions of a child trapped in an ageless body are difficult for his men to rationalize, or at least for those that retain some small semblance of autonomy. But he yearns and what he craves, he must surely get. Hunched over a jigsaw pile of cadavers in a Frankenstein lab. It weighs on anyone's mind. It warps it to compliment the pathos of the master.

Note - the Dogfish's legs are backwards, but it was too late to change this. I was consoled by someone "He looks awfully stressed anyways, so maybe he put them on backwards." ... ... It works for me.