10th of July

One night. It has taken our genius little Molly one day to produce a technological marvel the likes of which this world has never seen. Miss Blake has helped of course, providing strength and as many hands as needed, but Molly has devised and constructed what now takes up a large part of the space in the garage. Granted, she has had the help of Miss Blake, but the Shoggoth has provided the brawn, while Molly provided the brain - and what a brain it is. When Miss Blake called Priscilla and me into the garage and directed the other Shoggoths in their duties, we both were excited as to what we would see. And speechless when we did.

We found Molly bent over a workbench, tinkering away at a little contraption, antenna twitching and her eyes protected by a pair welder's goggles that had been modivied to also cover the additional eyes on her forehead. But we also found a full two thirds of the room occupied by what I could only identify as a machine at the time, with no inkling as to its purpose. A problem Molly was only to happy to remedy, taking off her goggles and flitting over to us with the help of her wings as she noticed us, throwing herself into my embrace.

"Maeve! Priscilla! Oh, I had so much fun tonight! And Sandra has been such a big help!" You will note, dear reader, that our little Molly and Miss Blake are now close enough to use their first names. It does my heart good to see how the cult grows ever closer. "Look, look! I have fulfilled the purpose the All-Mother has given me! I have built! I have built!"

"So I see, little one, so I see," I replied to our excited little elfin insect, gently caressing her hair as she nuzzled her face between my prodigious bust. "But... I am ignorant in the matters of the mechanical, so you must excuse the question: Exactly what have you built?"

"Oh, oh! Let me show you, let me show you!" Wings buzzing, Molly dashed through the air and to the side of her impressive machine, pointing to a box containing a stack of connected papers with curious holes, placed entirely haphazardly to the laymans eyes. "This is the deciding part. It commands all the rest! Every function is driven by the presence or absence of the holes and..."

I must admit, dear reader, I understood next to nothing of little Molly's explanation and recall barely more. Only that the "punchcards", as she calls them, allow her to produce anything she has the patterns for. Because, you see, as marvelous and arcane the machine is our little genius has build, as mundane is its purpose: It is simply a loom, a cutting and a sewing machine, rolled into one. And its first task was providing me with a wardrobe befitting the High Priestess of Shub-Niggurath.

And what a show it was! Molly pulled a lever, and the machine sprang to life - and so it really seemed, with the loom's shuttle racing to and fro all on its own, scissors and blades cutting through freshly woven cloth, needles whirring up and down as they sewed the fabric. The punchcards were pulled through a slit in the machine one after the other, appearing on the other side where they were neatly deposited in another box. I have never heard of such a technology, or any human engineer even thinking about it. Truly the All-Mother's blessings know no bounds!

"... and this one moves according to this row, cuts the fabric here, and..."

Our little Molly, the smartest and the smallest among us. She explained every last part of her marvelous invention, and I am afraid none of us really understood much of it. Even Miss Blake, who had helped her build it, could only shrug as I gave her a confused look. It was all we could do to watch as the machine did its work, with Molly fluttering over and across it, pointing out every last part.

"This right here is where the dress will appear. That is to say... now!"

The very second Molly's constant flow of words cut off, a large drawer at one end of the machine opened, presenting to us the finished product, freshly pressed to boot. Molly landed next to it, her chitinous feet producing little clicks on the floor, and beamed up at me, clearly and deservedly proud. So, before I even took a proper look at the dress, I pulled Molly into a hug, careful not to hurt her wings.

"All of this is nothing short of amazing, Molly," I whispered into her hair as she nuzzled against me, humming happily. "We are all so very proud of you."

Molly simply giggled, sinking into my bare breasts with an enormous smile. We remained like that for an all too short while before she couldn't wait any longer, flitting over to the drawer with my new dress, pulling it out and flying a fair bit higher to hold it up without dirtying the lower end. Simply put, dear reader, the dress is gorgeous. How little Molly managed to have a machine create something so elaborate, so delicate, I will never understand - it consists of a long, flowing skirt embroidered with designs evoking the All-Mother, slits down the sides revealing much of my legs and even hips. The upper part consists of little more than two strips of fabric running from my neck down under my armpits and to my back, covering and holding the bare minimum of my bosom, revealing the fanged maw on my torso.

In short, it is nothing short of scandalous, sure to cause more than just a commotion were I to wear it in any city in this country. Suffice to say, it is perfect for the first Dark Mass in honor of the Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young!

Iä Shub-Niggurath!