He's at the beach with a half-eaten loaf of Wonder bread.
The beach is sedate, the wisp of a breeze a cool complement to the radiant sun.
A perfect beach day.
Until Moses appears.
He stands, opens the loaf of Wonder bread and throws torn-up pieces of bread to the sky. The seagulls swoop in a quick motion, diving into the bread and calling their friends.
It's chaos on the beach, a quick transition from the lazy, hazy afternoon.
Normal beachgoers cover their lunches, staring angrily at Moses, who continues to hold his arms to the sky, acting like the father of seagulls, the master of ceremonies, the center of the universe.
And a complete idiot.