The moon was judging me. There was no doubt about it. It was staring me in the eye like a big pizza pie. Judging.
Okay, fine. Maybe I shouldn't have spread all those rumors about you, moon! No, I don't believe you're actually made of the blood and sweat of innocent cheeses. No, I don't believe you're the one who secretly caused the Great Chicago Fire, or that you tap our phone lines and replay particularly embarrassing conversations with ex-girlfriends back for the constellations. I just say these things because you frighten me, quite frankly.
I'm only human, though. What's your excuse? You're a humongous rock in the sky that only comes out at night. What's that about, anyway? You a vampire up there, moon?
Okay, fine, I'll stop being so paranoid. And I'll stop with the rumors, if you really can't handle a little bad publicity.
Just stop looking at me like that!