The Weed Jester sucks, and you shall not be giving them the engagement they obviously crave by their sudden garish appearance within your hallowed unfinished tale. Instead, your thoughts turn to a more somber matter. An event which you made a pledge 6 years ago, wait, you mean 24 years ago, to never forget.
There they are. Glistening towers made of empty ham and bean vessels bearing a virtually indistinguishable resemblance to the original buildings before they fell that fateful day. You do this every year on the eleventh day of the ninth month, but some years, you do it a little earlier because your emotions get the best of you.
Also, to complete the reenactment, you knock them both down. But very respectfully.
> Next.