From the diary of Professor Henry J. Fenchurch, Chair of Faeriological Studies at Oxford University:

February 12, 1893

Discovered two more of those repulsive little slime urchins in my office this evening. Stopped in after my lecture on “Shakespeare & Titania: Myth and Revelation” to pick up my umbrella and a sheaf of essays to be graded, and two of the little buggers were sitting on my desk when I turned on the light. Just staring at me. Awful creatures.

I am quite certain that the green one was about to attempt sexual relations with the fish-shaped one when I interrupted them. The question of how they intended to do that, or if it was even possible, given their relative bodily shapes, is a bafflement to me. A puzzle that disgusts me to even think about, yet that comes unbidden to the mind, as one incessantly probes an abcessed tooth with one’s tongue.

Why was the blue one shaped like a fish to begin with? These creatures are little more than blobs of (debateably) intelligent jelly; there is nothing piscene about them, and furthermore they were on land (or more precisely, my desk).

I swatted at them with a copy of Wegmorth’s Gnomenclature, but the little blighters slipped away, leaving slimy little puddles on my desk-blotter.

If I see any more of the blasted things, I shall call an exterminator.