People love me. They might imitate my face, roast me, or have a rubber figurine of me. They may even yell my name at other people as a warning.

If you're sweet, you can be me. If you're hungry, you can eat me. If you're a plumber, please save me.

I make this riddle readable and I get aliens drunk.

I have a cage, but I do not have a need to reach heaven. I am often seen in preserved form, bragging about fifty seven.

I can open crates, but I cannot open envelopes. You might see me in a gradual decay of an isotope.