My first head implies more than it directly presents. The observer, after initially dismissing the head as uninteresting, notes a certain forced carelessness, or a vague oddness about the skull contour, or the single hair that is always awkwardly placed. He decides that the head is trying to trick him; he stares at it longer, finds more suspicious features, begins to jot them down. Upon analyzing his notes, he nods, convinced that he has discovered whatever secret he thinks it holds, and goes on his way.

My second head is the disadvantaged one. It is weak and lopsided, not precisely misshapen, but far from attractive. The eyes move constantly, rolling in a random pattern, seeing nothing. Occasionally the mouth babbles, the nose sniffs. This head receives little attention.

I know little about my third head; it is placed in such a way that none of my other heads can see it. Despite the obvious advantage this gives it, it rarely interferes with the operation of the other heads. Once I was able to position a mirror so I could see its eyes; they appeared to be turned completely inward, with only white showing. I suspect that it has certain plans...

My fourth head is insufferably self-important. It is the most talkative of all, and, not surprisingly, the most vacuous. This head has embarrassed me on many occasions--but the less said about this, the better.

I reside entirely in my fifth head, despite what my other heads might say. The fifth head is the seat of emotion, consciousness, rationality, creativity. The fifth head controls all. The other heads are merely appendages.