‘Backwards,’ declares Jodocus Meaddowcraft. ‘Backwards now world-spinning. All progress halt. New histories writing.’

His voice is a terrible one, all wrath and gritty.

‘Not resting us ‘til world back beginning spin at start once more.’

Bartholomaus Hamson, Einav Dionisii, Mally Jaqueminet, Agatho Wagner, and Husniya Hindge agree.

‘My plan,’ crows Jodocus Meaddowcraft to the weary Assembly. ‘My heart-hope all ambition decided.’

Jodocus Meaddowcraft raises himself to a height hitherto not imagined and looms large across the floor of the UN Building.

‘My palace now begone foul fellows flee!!!!’

The delegates scattered with a mixture of fear for the future and relief from the experience.

Husniya Hindge is twin and has an arm as long as a leg and a leg as long as an arm and no-one can be truly sure of her outlines as Husniya Hindge shimmers psychosuggestively to cause a distinct mental uncertainty among all of those unlucky enough to meet her.

Imagine being defined by a vagueness. Then imagine that vagueness being further defined by yet more vagary and bewilderness.

Husniya Hindge is also exceedingly open-minded and this only adds to the difficulties she presents to any dimension upon which she materializes.

Agatho Wagner is a proud-strutting myriapod full of mathematical magnificence expressed physically as troubling angles and lines.

Resplendent.

Repugnatorial.

Agatho takes the utmost pleasure in obnoxion and fully appreciates the disgust by which he is defined across the varied planes.

Agatho does not ever speak but writes instead long missives in a tiny hand with a fine-feathered quill and leaves them on the floor for you to try and avoid reading.

Don’t ever read them on pain of death.

With a stench from beyond space and time Mally Jaqueminet appears. She is wreathed in rotting weeds.

‘Nihil her thing best,’ says Jodocus Meaddowcraft. ‘See shining eye danger her facing you. Malingering. Moody. Malevolent. Malicious. Magnificent. Murderous. Mean. Malodorous.’

Mally bows lows to the watching world. Jodocus Meaddowcraft continues.

‘Calamitous. Deadly. Dire. Noxious. Pernicious. Ruinous. Sinister. Threatening. Venomous. Vindictive. Woeful.’

Thesauritical in his approach, Jodocus Meaddowcraft delights in introducing the world to his world.

Another appears. Bulbous. Slime-lined. Mollusc.

‘Einav Dionisii,’ waves Jodocus Meaddowcraft. ‘Wrong all do. Evil only evil only ever.’

Einav clears his throat and begins to speak like the discord of a rusty orchestra.

‘More more agathokakological, gathered ones. A-G-A-T-H-O-K-A-K-O-L-O-G-I-C-A-L. Mainly leaning one way and then other but balanced overall.’

Jodocus Meaddowcraft begs to differ. ‘Balance not. Balance not.’

When Einav Dionisii smiles the world feels just a bit more glum.

‘Disagreatum est, felice! Disagreatum.’

Jodocus Meaddowcraft doesn’t approve of disagreement and demonstrates his disapproval by deigning to smile.

‘Not cross me, Bulbo! Not no never now!’

Save

‘Here Bartholomaus Hamson introducing,’ says Jodocus Meaddowcraft. ‘Lieutenant. Sidekick. Limb.’

Bartholomaus Hamson is an ugly brute of a manstrosity.

‘Herds Bartholomaus Hamson the Unslept,’ continues Jodocus Meaddowcraft. ‘Guidance divining crowd control.’

Bartholomaus Hamson offers his sleaziest of smiles.

‘Grin on, fine friend,’ says Jodocus Meaddowcraft. ‘Planet now feeling fear and not happiness.’

Bartholomaus Hamson begins to shuffle inconveniently and though the world could never know this is Bartholomaus Hamson expressing his joy at arriving through spontaneous dance. His dermatitis skin forms new flabs and folds and flakes as Bartholomaus gathers an unseemly pace.

The next morning.

‘I am obtuse from now forever,’ declares Jodocus Meaddowcraft. ‘We have seen enough of your foolish world to be anything other than annoyed for having been summoned through your stupidity.’

Jodocus smiles.

‘Furthermore, you will now find it hard to understand me when I speak.’

Another smile.

‘But just before that happens just always know that I only have your worst interests at heart. There can never be doubt with this.’

Jodocus Meaddowcraft clicks his fingers.

‘Sense now over gone forever hard speaking me confusion reigns misunderstanding.’

‘There is a multitude of us,’ says Jodocus Meaddowcraft. ‘One after the other and then the next again forever now. More than you can count.’

‘Behold the Unslept’ says Jodocus Meaddowcraft, pointing at the screen. ‘See how they play.’

Jodocus laughs.

‘Each one summoned by a mistyped search.’

The Assembly looks and what it sees chills to the bone. A hundred thousand million figures in perpetual tortured motion; fighting and climbing and dancing and jumping, in gangs and alone, all moving forever. The image is grainy but there was no doubt as to what the world is seeing, the end of itself. They begin materializing. All the shapes and sizes you can imagine. Many you cannot hope to.

‘I bet you don’t even know what I am?’ Jodocus Meaddowcraft continues. ‘Saint? Resurrect? Alien? Visitor? Deity? Destroyer? Saviour? Traveller?’

No one knows what to say to Jodocus Meaddowcraft. Advice is sought but not provided.

‘No whispering,’ whispers Jodocus Meaddowcraft loudly as delegates confer. ‘Do not talk amongst yourselves any longer. Only to me with the conditions I have outlined.’

Jodocus Meaddowcraft looks around.

‘This building is about to be off-limits to you all so please get ready to leave straightaway.’