Flits about like a fancy gaggle of cheeky birds, its head swings back and forth in a dandy little dance, it's not rude nor is it kind, the golden rule pooling in its every step. It's sensitive, if you remove the screws. It invites you to its spring ball, bring a costume. It invites itself into your house, and if you decline it will leave forever, fickle being, please, don't make it go. If you let it stay it might bring you gift baskets of gramophones, bows, and Victorian peaches. Its face shifts everytime you blink and it speaks in train whistles and old vinyl records so do be polite, as you would to any other plague doctor. Have a picnic in the green British countryside.
all images and whatnot are my own creations that are documentations of my own findings; all images on this site are licensed under CC-BY; use them how you wish, just please share what corner of the universe you had found them in (which is here)