Percival exposes his redolent abdomen. He is flexible. With such power he will be able to conquer many worlds.
Many stout warriors and admirable princesses have fallen before the gaze of Percival.
He is twisted around so his upper and lower body are facing different directions.
He's about half-grown-up and I think he's starting to slow down a little bit. He still ambushes the others and he likes to play in the hot-tub (when it's empty.) There is a pink paper wad he likes. He chases it up the sides of the tub and it slides back down, taunting him. Teasing him. Flouting his spread claws. Yet there must be some vulnerability, some avenue by which it is readily exposed to attack, some way to vanquish it for eternity.
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