The liver excretes bile. If you've got little livers all over the place, where does the bile that comes out of them go? Back into the blood the liver filtered the toxins out of in the first place?
Of /course/ a clairvoyant or spoon-bender or spirit medium or faith healer or astrologist or time-traveler feels a test is unfair by being designed to make it impossible for him to cheat. If there's truth to a claim, then it will survive magic-trick-exposing testing. And I say this as a huge fan of charismatic bullshit artists. Maybe they're crazy, maybe they're not, maybe they're fooling even themselves, but they're entertaining, and that's okay. Until their magic power is unambiguously validated by real testing, entertainment is all it is.
Can't the mystery mass be the "mass" of all the light going between everything that ever generated light and everywhere the light is all still on its way to? If all those photons since the beginning, that are still out there, or are freshly out there, having not collided with anything yet, were condensed into matter, would its mass equal the amount they're saying the dark matter must be? And it would make sense that it seems associated with galaxies, which are fresh sources of light.
I always spell no one no-one and pronounce gala guh-LAH, vegan VEJ-un, and renaissance re-NAY-senss (renascence) because that's the way they should be. I've worried that it might be a red flag clue in a robbery or ransom note or call, but then of course I'll spell and say everything the wrong but normal way during a crime and get away with it, in case the need ever comes up. There's a science fiction story from the early 1960s where an energetic brilliant exotic immigrant man earns his place in the U.S. space service but is kept from high-profile missions. Somehow he replaces the astronaut meant to go to, I think, Pluto, and he gives away who he is in a radio interchange by his pronunciation of the number six. He says, "Nine, eight, seven, sikkis... The flight director grasps this, but too late to stop the launch. The rocket is away and the man gets his chance.
My favorite is where Tracy, retreating from the ship's bridge after being shot, in /The Message/ episode of /Firefly/, shouts, "Gorrammit, Mal!" Which is meant to be Chinese for /God dammit, Mal!/ The subtitle track on the DVD says, "You're a rabbit, Mal." Also, of course, there's the famous, "You see what happens when you find a stranger in the Alps, Larry! You see what happens when you feed a stoner scrambled eggs!" in /The Big Lebowsky/.
It could be other things besides a muzzle. It could be a covid mask (if it covered his nose). It could have a little gun in it with a laser-dot sight that you'd aim with your head and fire by biting down on the trigger. It could be a Pez dispenser, a video projector, a voice SFX box (echo, flanger, etc.), a tele-sex remote kissy-lips thing, and more, all at once.
It's clever that you followed the post about the auto-inflating bike helmet with this post, and its photo of the same development from hundreds of years ago, and modeled by royalty, no less.
Stephen Baxter's book /Anti-Ice/ is about an alternate world where early-Victorian-era British scientists on an expedition to Antarctica have found a meteorite of special ice with antimatter suspended magnetically in it. One of the first uses of this material is to break the Siege of Sevastopol with a disastrous atomic bomb. Giant land ships and sea ships are built, driven by clockworks metering tiny slivers of anti-ice into boilers. Anti-ice powers a rocket to the moon. An endless supply of anti-ice is found in space. Etc. Here: https://en.everybodywiki.com/Anti-Ice.
There's a science fiction story from the early 1960s where an energetic brilliant exotic immigrant man earns his place in the U.S. space service but is kept from high-profile missions. Somehow he replaces the astronaut meant to go to, I think, Pluto, and he gives away who he is in a radio interchange by his pronunciation of the number six. He says, "Nine, eight, seven, sikkis... The flight director grasps this, but too late to stop the launch. The rocket is away and the man gets his chance.
Also, of course, there's the famous, "You see what happens when you find a stranger in the Alps, Larry! You see what happens when you feed a stoner scrambled eggs!" in /The Big Lebowsky/.