Indigenous Creatures of My Writing Desk

There is an antique writing desk in my little study handed-me-down from generations of would-be writers in my family And there are ancient creatures from days gone by living in this old desk still evil, larcenous little creatures envious of literary skill This explains much Lately, I have caught them unawares aghast, thought I imagined them but they are really there surly, sinister, repugnant creatures in my writing desk There's a putrid little jerk, called Pernishicus who lurks behind the piles on my desk glorying in the mess a malevolent, grimy-mauve gremlin Who preys on newly created works stealthily spraying them with foul feculence as soon as I commence my writing- ...Sometimes missing slightly and tagging my hand making it hard to stand myself (much less my writing) for days on end Then there's a creepy mesmerizing fiend they call Spelbadger a translucent thing, quite obscene who shifts in the shadows and purrs With dark eyes deep- constantly changing like stones from mood-rings set in his skull he psychically bullies, intimidates and muddles until my poor brain is worn and dull And perhaps worst of all is that one, Grumblesleaze with pale, glowering eyes diseased a gray-green, mangy looking thing whose famous quirk is that he has the gall to grouse about my work... As he viciously shreds it then glunshing and munching greedily devours it all leaving no note or trace of remembrance of my past brilliance behind Oh, out of spite he might leave a few of my ill-penned unfortunate lines I planned to cut anyway or pull my worst attempts from the waste-can and lay them out to remind me of my failures Yes, this explains much For there was only one before our one lone ancestor who was able to write at this desk prolifically tapping out volumes rather heroically 'Though tiresome and tedious dry history and drivel which, no doubt, shrank and shriveled and lulled these creatures off to sleep for years Until we woke them up broke their hibernation with more interesting stories and imagination, colorfully crafted ingenious, piece after piece Clicking and clacking away on typewriters, keyboards generation after generation of irritatingly gifted writers disturbing their peace it had to cease...