what beast would turn its life into words?

Actually, I redact that statement. Because ten frillion chins MAKES NO SENSE. On second thought there are no chins, which is infinitely more frightening, and what I am actually looking at is ten frillion GRINS which makes me think you, like, ATE The Joker and regurgitated him, like, ten frillion times. Either that or it sort of reminds me of a Sarah Slean song (which generally doesn't produce an image quite so nauseating--thanks for that association!).