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.
The Remains of Bidet (James Ivory, 1993)
We might find we have more in common than we think if we just stop fighting long enough to combine our bodies into a singular organism.
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