You hear rustling in the middle of the night. You go downstairs, and see a tall, cartoony man with a pizza slice for a head rummaging through your fridge and humming a jaunty tune.

PizzaHead: he turns to look at you, holding a gallon of milk. "Oh me, oh my! Your milk has gone sour! What a shame!"

He seems... Insane. And... Is that a revolver in his overall pocket?