Legally grown, parts of me can be abused. My seeds taste delicious, but my liquid will discombobulate. In bloomed form, I'm red, yellow, and purple - just don't milk me. What five letter thing might I be.

What do you get when a telescope crashes into a microscope?

I’m fashion’s apology for bad weather. I make you crinkle, swish, and smell faintly like plastic, but once my is done you hang me up like a wet flag.

Arr, ye rowdy rogues! In a barrel it brews, bringing brawls and boisterous cheers, makes mates merry and sailors sing. Golden grog of the sea, it be the captain's choice for a hearty huzzah!

In the forest's heart, where elements dance, I blend earth's bounty with a rhythmic trance. A conductor of nature's harmonious song, I unite diverse notes, where all belong.