In the forest.  Going along a well traveled road and the Highway Man is here. Without any thought or change in expression, he watches the carriage come flying towards him.

  The freak of nature cringes with each of the Carriages turbulent encounters.  He shudders every time the Carriage rattles, because each large bump they go over means that he has to brace himself for the inevitable alacratic whoop that bellows forth from the lop-sided (but enormous) mouth of his Master.

  At the sight of the Highway Man, the gangly man stands up from his small hard seat. Still clutching the reins, he gathers his composure and carefully raises one hand up into the swatting wind. Despite the constantly undulating terrain, he manages to keep upright with little difficulty.

  His black cape is naturally          -        flapping.

  His (sadly for me) unblack mouth is gaping.

  Each tooth is a spectacle in its age … in a jagged-fossil-once-was-a-caveman’s-tool sorta kinda way. The eyes are similar but they are ex-serpents eyes gone Jewell.

  There is also a cane in the right hand (were everything upside down, it would be relentlessly plummeting towards the sky-type-mouth-of-a-Succubus-type sky) that twirls through boney fingers too long for short men or women. His *BLATANTLY FUCK’DUP* grin GOES SONIC  and is now- (throat clears) …                CACKLE.

  The freak of Nature starts to moan in a hopeless self-saucing puddle of blubbery and monumentally failing consolation. He thinks that he is the only tool left on Planet Earth.

                                                            It’s the first time he has ever done that, and thus, he leaves planet earth. He realises that there really isn’t any point to staying and riding a horse with his head tucked tightly under his arm scaring the shit out of people just coz some fucker brutally murdered him on this woe-be-damned stretch of road years and years ago. It’s a fuckin’ scary piece of road as it is: the woods, the owls-