You open the Thundercats lunchbox and...

…find yourself gazing at the dismembered body of Lion-o's faithful companion, Snarf! With all the mangy tufts of orange and red hair sticking out of the tangled, meaty mess, you know that this is without a doubt the former nursemaid to the Lord of the Thundercats. "Well, never much liked the annoying bastard anyway," you think to yourself, hoping that the clue you seek isn't hidden within the sloppy meatbox.

Suddenly you hear a voice inside your head. "Eat it! Eat your lunch! Do it, anarchy, wooooo bitch, yeah!" Before you can even think to stop yourself, you've already scooped up a drippy handful and stuffed it down your gullet. You panic as you feel the meaty catdogmonkeything sliding down your throat, fearing what diseases you might get after doing something so stupid. Ironically, it's the panicked sense of self-preservation that makes your throat seize up, lodging Snarf firmly in your windpipe and causing your untimely death.

SNARF!

START OVER, YOU 80'S ICON EATING FUCK!