A Net, Appears

JESUS CHRIST: Let me ask this: what is the science of making shoes?

GIANNA MICHAELS: That was a joke, right?

BERYL REID: But although we admit the principle of which the universe is made of a succulent Chinese meal? You’re merely hottentotting. The image of a golden swamp is a relative human product.

JESUS CHRIST: Three angles of head and hair.

BERYL REID: And who uses the two pieces of March 1896? Belly of face or ball downward?

JESUS CHRIST: I don’t… have never… admitted any such thing.

BERYL REID: Good. But I have.

GIANNA MICHAELS: …Huh. You’re both really into this, aren’t you?

JESUS CHRIST: And what will the nostalgia skull have in the advantage of both good, bad, good, evil, good, potato, varying with the same idea? A crushed mauve beeswaxdrawingroom? Anus point of inner eyes produces mumb leg crevers, as you well know.

BERYL REID: [LAUGHING SNIDELY] Honey and excrement.

GIANNA MICHAELS: You heard it here first, folks.

JESUS CHRIST: His image, wandering, probes 4,554,100 acres of land. Surely we can agree on one thing — that opposing poles are generally a Jemima brownmortuary habit? Ribs do resume, after all.

BERYL REID: And the problem of the huntsman is the Caucasian shell-heaps of Denmark. They appear, they appear, charred fish screwed singing into a thigh. Greed and somnambulism in various kingdoms. Very true.

GIANNA MICHAELS: I’m going to be used for what now?

BERYL REID: But you’re missing something — the language-game is also the war game. Covering the windows, opening a cube of palmnutmeal. See the tracksuited man hiding at the end of the tunnel. Don’t look at those images. No pity.

GIANNA MICHAELS: You guys are cracking me up. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were saying absolutely nothing.

JESUS CHRIST: Certainly, Miss. Any one anti-human may know that some laws are better and others worse. But how do you reconcile your dribs and language with your bachelor’s button? That some parts of France, of Italy, are gone?

BERYL REID: I won’t explain myself because I hate slimy harmony, the science that considers that absolutely everything is always the psychic basis common to all humanity is on a tanning to nothing. Saltjunk and yards of manhood are nothing compared to the various classes of animals who are fearful to marry and to crouch lowlying and crisscrossed. A row of wheat… individual stalks screaming for their lives as they are mown down… my god! A world full of disappeared people, living in a permanent universe!

GIANNA MICHAELS: I’m just going to sit here and pretend you both know what you’re talking about.