Young Oolaloo is introducing her latest offspring to its sisters (the Winged Worm is adopted). The kids are delighted but somewhat puzzled as to the nature of the new arrival, as is Oolaloo herself. She conjectures that the father might, just might, mind you, be that good-looking merman she met at a very nice party at the GorgoMormo’s; or perhaps that brilliant and forensically clever Deep One with whom she spend a grand weekend at the Mother Hydra B&B last time she visited her friends in Y'ha-nthlei. She’s not bothered, really. Determined to emulate the Shub-Niggurath in the family unplanning department and equally firm on the eugenics aspect of her endeavour, she chooses as different fathers for her children as she can, if always within the limits of her rather fussy and elitist taste in men, naturally. But as long as they are healthy, of good stock, bright and good looking and not totally psychotic, as far as she’s concerned they’ll do