I didn’t think it was possible to make that picture better.

My father would, at one point, buy knives from a man with a prosthetic leg, made out of wood. Might seem strange to buy knives from a knife salesman instead of a store, but this was company level and they needed a supplier of scalpels or something. Anyway, this guy would bring out a knife, show it, talk about it and then stab the knife into his thigh while continuing to hold a normal conversation. Only mentioning that he had a wooden leg once the customer jumped out of the chair in shock.

Me when I eat pop rocks

she is possessed by a surly but affectionate goat

But if you can’t grow your own moons, store-bought is fine.