So numerous were the pits and gashes dotting Walsutaddel's frown that, looking at it, one was tempted to apply to it a thin coating of crushed shale for the purposes of examination (at the natural but, sadly, not at all deterrent horror of Walsutaddel himself). Endearing as this characteristic may have been, however, the deep pits of his eyes caught one slightly off guard, and so it was that many a potential acquaintance was driven away after an initially being so taken fascinating molding of the poor wretch. This is mind, it should be no great mystery that the face that delighted and lured in so many passers-by was contorted in such an expression of sorrow, but it was rare, one having seen the eyes of this beast and thus having the information absolutely necessary for this inference, that one gave the creature a further thought, to the exclusion, of course, of the universal and, one might say, basically human, shudder, if that can be considered a thought at all. In addition to the marred canvas of his face, the only other qualities to which one could apply the term «alluring» were a severely mangled spinal column, at some points reaching the regularity of a helix and at others simply resembling the path of a garden hose draped haphazardly over a stretch of hilly terrain, and a pair of wrists somehow more flaccidly attached than if they'd lacked bone and ligament altogether. The rest of his physiognomy was of such terrible shape and demeanor as to be totally unworthy of description.
