One word: Alien.

I die at seventeen, because I’m currently twenty-one, so dying at seventeen would make me either invincible or the proud owner of a time machine. I’ll go with the latter.

I buy my time machine at forty-four, because you could call predicting a type of four-shadowing. Since I’m smart enough to make that clever little play on words, I’m smart enough to know I won’t be inventing a time machine any time soon.

Evil people are everywhere. Lucky for me and you, Winslow can detect evil using scientifically disproven mental powers known among experts as “lighting bolt exclamation points.” Winslow knows if you’ve been possessed by a demon or a ghost, and can even tell if your body is being used as a crude meat puppet for a vengeful Elder God. Or he could just be guessing. I don’t know, I’m an artist not a scientist, leave me alone!

IF ( stomach = empty )

THEN ( run action: cry )

IF ( stomach = full )

THEN ( run action: poop )

WARNING: This image is mildly NSFW.
I have no idea why any human being would send Ben and Winslow to go grocery shopping for them. They can’t go to their own grocery store, because all the food would be too small. But at the human grocery store, everything is way too big for them to manage. (Or to be more specific, carry. Winslow can manage the stuff just fine. He’ll eat anything.) The only reason Winslow likes going is because he’s the perfect size to sit in the cart like a toddler.