#egghag

a Stubhag of repute, May East. veteran of the eggmines and just cant seem to get rid of the smell that goes with that. longtime site manager of Growth Wing B, Hall 69 (indicating her reputation, as it is considered a great honor to be assigned to any of the Funny Numbers). a no-nonsense type always in a scramble to prevent a scramble, East was the subject of a popular documockumentary chronicling a typical day of eggwork, office drama, grisly mining accidents, even grislier shell-painting controversies over which method of rendering noses is superior (rosy v. mega-rosy), and the Miracle of Birth, for those who were curious about that. some disparage her controversial biomass redistribution policies, for many is the clown who has ordered a cousin and gotten a nephew in the mail, or vice versa, or ecetera. some have pointed to her lax anti-Sickfuck security measures as the reason for the recent record-high lifejuice leakage rates. to these armchair critics East simply says: Come Up And Be Me Sometime

Who is this? I feel as though their an egghag, or perhaps a bastard

Pam Andeggs, a disgraced Egghag who leads goo-stealing Sickfucks and other tourists through the egg-mines for a small fee. having spent her giddy youth huffing egg fumes out of discarded shells, her physiology now resembles that of an egg, rendering her undetectable to her fellow hags and immune to most physical dangers of the underworld. this almost makes up for having to paint her face back on every day.

Bitschy. marked by the dust of the egg mines, it is Bitschy’s lot in life to haul rotten clowneggs from the muck, making room for their kind-of healthier fellows. the first clown emperor placed a powerful psychic block on the knowledge of what must be done with bad eggs, and Bitschy mostly works on ancestral muscle memory, his face taut and blank and dutiful even when he’s going down the pub with the other ‘hags.