Peruvian Mushrooms

Beth Allard arrived at the lake, with her small motorboat in tow. She had gotten a call 15 minutes earlier from her friend John Randolph. He had been out fishing in his rowboat, when his oars where sent overboard in a strange chain off events, and floated far away. He had been attempting to reel in what felt like a very big fish. John tugged furiously at the line, and finally pulled up what turned out to be a 9-pound bowling ball, that had been stuck on a rock. It went flying off his hook and knocked the hammer he had the fish into the water. Apparently, it had sunk quickly to the bottom, and had hit an old, fairly small land mine that had been sitting there since 1942, when the lakebed had originally been an army training camp during World War II. Needless to say, the small blast shook the boat just enough to knock both the oars clear out of his reach.
So anyway, Beth backed her boat into the water, and jumped in. She started her boat, and found John with her binoculars. She sped off, and arrived there within minutes.

“Are you okay, John?” she asked.

“Why, I’m not John, I’m Neil Armstrong!” he replied.

Beth thought about this. Then she realized something.

“Did you get hungry?”

“Yes.”

“Did you eat the Peruvian Mushrooms over there?”

“If you mean those orange things, then yup.”

Beth sighed with frustration.

“Those mushrooms only make you think you’re Neil Armstrong. They do that to everybody. I’ve no idea why.”