Mr. Potato Head's Diagnostic Check

A sharp click ran through my internal pegs. Both arms lifted outward, locked at the shoulder sockets. First step: inspect every attachment. Ears seated, mustache centered. I brought my hand up to tap the brim of my cap, ensuring it was pegged securely in place. Then I stamped down firmly on the dark surface beneath me. Solid contact. Every part accounted for and in working order.