"CHERRY?"

You decide that some nice cherry cobbler would do the trick! After all, who doesn't love some nice cherry cobbler? You jaunt on over to the corner grocery, pick up some of the delectable cherry goodness and come back to find the man still in the same state you left him in. "Coooooooobbler!" he intones mindlessly.

"Yes, cobbler. That's right," you say, opening up the lid and waving it under his nose, so the cherry smell can waft up and knock him out of his trance. "Yummmmmm. Cooooobbler!" you say to him as if you're talking to a child.

Suddenly his head snaps forward and his eyes are lucid with a crystal intensity. "Cobbler?" he asks urgently. "COBBLER??" His eyes dart down to the cobbler you're holding out, and he swipes it away from you faster than you can blink. "COOOOBBLER!" he shrieks in a high-pitched yelp, as he tips the aluminum pan and pours the piping hot cobbler right down his pants. He then begins to jump up and down frantically, drool flying from his mouth in every direction, all the while screaming "COOOOOOBBLER!!! COOOOBBLER!!!" at the top of his lungs.

You turned and ran when you saw the steam coming from his crotch, feeling lucky to have escaped the crazy man unharmed. So much for finding help for your party, loser. You may as well just call it quits and focus on planning for your big Arbor Day Hullabaloo at this point.

CHERRY COBBLER BAD! START AGAIN!