[If she ever said as much to his face it would feel like stepping into an alternate universe. It's still so bizarre to think about even having friends outside of Stanley and his other immediate family; even counting both blood and extended that's... four total. Three and a half, because right now Fiddleford is only half himself and Ford still doesn't know how to begin to address it.

Not that he isn't grateful. He is, incredibly so. It's humbling to think he's come far enough to get close to people, and outside of some very notable occasions Ford Pines isn't easily humbled.]

It usually does. I might have to enlist you to babysit me in case it turns out others are psychoactive. Out of sixty-odd berry species, I highly doubt only Persim berries have this effect in humans.