Hey, where there's cheese... He hasn't so much as seen a healthy cow in a year or two. (And he used to love cows. Especially Miss Gene, such a friendly animal... for a cow.)

There is cheese and one Donald trying to hold himself back from inhaling it all. These days he eats like a starving teenager, loads and loads and loads. All fuel for the transformations and incredible burning metabolism.

He's tempted to join in with the fiddler and sing something silly. Music, food, company, it's a very nice night.