Hydrogen: I'd imagine the fly version of Christianity would have some subtle yet important differences.
Trillaphon: In the name of the Father, the Son, and the giant heap of dung behind the garden center, amen.
Hydrogen: The Passion of the Christfly, starring Jim Cabeezel.
Trillaphon: That first diorama isn't very impressive, it's less a realistic battle scene and more a medieval Playmobil set with a bunch of dead flies randomly glued to it.
Trillaphon: The fly church, on the other hand, he could probably sell to the Guggenheim for at least a cool 30 million.
Hydrogen: The MoMA presents: an evening with fat baby Hitler and his big pile of dead insects.
Trillaphon: Oh god yes please, I sure hope the exhibit centers around a 60-minute looping video presentation that's just endless extreme close-up shots of his horrible pudgy face as he plucks half-dead flies off of things and puts them onto other things. That's what the public wants to see.
Trillaphon: You know, instead of being a fly-obsessed budding psychopath, maybe he's really just getting a big, big head start on his insect collection for 9th-grade biology. He'll be the only person to turn in 80,000 dead houseflies and half of a grasshopper.
Hydrogen: He'll get an easy B-, in exchange for agreeing to take his collection away and never bring it back.
One roommate's art-fueled movement goes terribly wrong.
Emma Stone was the most paranoid person I had ever met. In private she wore a full suit of medieval armor at all times, visor down.
Something Awful reviews the absolute worst movies out there. We focus mostly on horror and science fiction, because all writers here on Something Awful are huge nerds.