Imagine being the smallest-titted rabbit on the moon. So you go to earth, and eat 1 millions humans, all so you can complete your master plan of spawning a semi-independent, 7-foot-tall woman swinging the most massive knockers the galaxy has seen. How is she drawing the magic bow with those mega-plus hooters in the way!??? Maybe that's it's special moon-tech property, immune to the spacetime curvature of heaving gazongas that would otherwise alter the flight of the arrows (a normal arrow would never escape the event horizon of those slammin boobs).