Here’s some advice: Never walk away from a moon fight.
Now I know what you’re thinking: ‘moons don’t have arms, which means their punches will be more like belly jams, and jam tastes like the fruit it was made from, and making things is damn near like witchcraft you physco’
Um, ‘Moons don’t have arms’ – Um, how do you know they don’t have arms? Oh you know every moon do you? Sure the moon that the earth keeps as a pet has no arms, but that just makes the earth loyal and progressive, like that guy that lives at the beach with the three-legged one-eyed dog. Sure it probably lost those two physical parts of itself in a fight with a weird sea-creature, that lives in an abandoned 1968 Volkswagen Beatle that was dumped into the ocean by a heart broken former owner who was just broken up with by a girl named Vicky Wagner, who liked to write letters and sign them with her initials within in a heart, which then had a thought bubble that said ‘wow, VW, like the car, I never noticed that before’ and then had an arrow pointing at the thought bubble with the words ‘I could have saved space had I just written B4’ written next to it, and then had an arrow pointing at this sentence with the words ‘or just skipped this’ written next to it, and that the man at the beach refuses to tell the world that the sea-creature exists, for fear that it will next attack specifically to take him out, and at night when he’s typically debating the institutionalized nature of worm farms, so he’s not paying attention, and because he’s German and is sick of them looking bad in the media, and that if he wasn’t so concerned with his debates, and just moved to the park next to the beach like a normal person, then his dog would never have had to protect him from attacks from the sea, but you still like him, because he kept the dog, so maybe OTHER moons had arms, but just lost them protecting people from sea attacks. I mean every moon has a stupid, arrogant, always smiling face; surely some of them develop arms to punch that! That’s just logic.
Oh and don’t bash belly jams, fruit jams are too seedy, and who wants to eat something seedy, other than TV chefs, and they always wear jackets that button up funny, and buttons can get in kids throats and choke them to death damn it!
Oh, and um, it’s spelled - Phyco, physco, phscho, fuck, sych, holy shit… psycho! There I did it, so fuck you!
The point is, never walk away from a moon fight, or else the sea-creatures win, which they will eventually anyway, I blame Vicky Wagner, what a fucking space waster.