In one week, I go see my local oncologist, who I've been calling Dr. Great and Powerful Oz. This is because it's hard to get in to see him, not because he has a giant green head or anything.
It would be cool if he did, though.
Godcella had better not be awake and messing around in there. Back in the Olden Days, when my sister and I would be messing around upstairs at bedtime, our dad would stand at the bottom of the stairs and call out, "Now, kiiiiiiiids. It is ten o'clock (dramatic pause) AT. NIGHT." I imagine myself using the same tone of voice:
"Now cellllllllls. You'd better not be multiplying in there. Stop jumping up and down on my bone marrow and GO. TO. BED."
Nothing to fear. Nothing to fear.