I potter about within my outer, somewhat snazzy, mini-chunky, mildly-flexible suit-of-armour. I know about armour. I get through the armour of the common mussels by straddling them, gripping on with my nuuuumerous “feet”. . . then i pull and continue pulling til the bivalve gives just a tiny gap. . . then, whilst still applying  a pull, I push my stomach out of me and down into the mussel meat. . . dissolve it and theirs lunch sorted.
I’ll be your favourite. I’m the best of the rest.