"I'm not deranged!" Slovva protested, as he slithered and hrumphed his way to the lunchroom. "I'm just...judgmentally challenged." A sudden but loud, low rumble emanated from his tummy (which was half of his body, so it was pretty loud) and Slovva burped. "Pardon me," he said, putting his pudgy hand to his mouth just a bit too late to stop the pungent odour of old sweat socks from filtering out into the room. "Hey! Wait up!" he called as he struggled to catch up to the others. "I'm locomotively challenged, too, with out my Force! I'll report you to the Jedi Council's Anti-Discrimination panel if you eat all the Swiss string-cheese pudding before I get there!"
Veni, Vidi, Velcro. (I came, I saw, I stuck around)