Hark! An anti-miracle of Unnature is unfolding! This literary creature growing like a Xenomorph inside my innards is due to undergo the first of many moltings in a fortnight. It should be quite a ghoulishly surreal sight to behold, although I would advise against touching its discarded exoskeleton without asbestos gloves, lest it sting you all jellyfish-like and summon an unholy swarm of extradimensional maggot-like creatures to feast upon your suddenly withered and gangrenous stub of a hand. Using it like a Frisbee to play catch with your dog probably isn’t such a hot idea either, unless you don’t mind Fido growing an udder and an extra head.
In the meantime, get cozy by the fire. When the thing hatches, you’ll know.
Five and ¾ Senses 