|Oh, this used to happen all the time. Coffee was the crack of the 50s, apparently. Mothers would turn into hideous witches, twitchy and snippy creatures who pecked their children until they trudged out into the cold to join the circus, or live in the jungle. This child, in anticipation of his circus career, appears to have painted his face with clown eyes.
Meanwhile, back home, Dad - who has lovely fingers, dont you think? - has enough baggage under his eyes to hint that hes been nailing the bean pretty badly too.
But nevermind that. Weve another question:
Mr. Coffee Nerves?
What the hell is he supposed to be? An invisible guy with a jet-powered backpack who has nothing better to do than hope that the cumulative effect of coffee consumption breaks up families? Wouldnt it be easier just to have sex with these people while theyre asleep, and let them worry that theyve become demonically possessed?
And who would Mr. Coffee Nerves prefer to have sex with? Itll be clear as we go along.