Biff went to a storefront psychic for some spiritual guidance. There seems to be a horrible, dark cloud surrounding me.
I know, said the psychic, and for a hundred dollars, I can rid you of it.
Biff thought the fee was high, but, eager to be cured, he handed over the money to the psychic. After pocketing the fee, the psychic then pulled out a book of matches and lit one.
Then Biff asked, What do you call this dark and horrible curse?
The psychic waved the match down behind Biff and said, Mexican food.