Roger’s hernia wasn’t getting any better. He was pretty sure he’d have to get to a doctor before too long. It wasn’t exactly that he avoided doctors, he just - well, okay, he avoided doctors. He hadn’t visited a hospital in well over ten years and he wasn’t too excited about the prospect now.
“So how exactly do you think that first - what’d you call it? Gambino acid? How’d it get going then? Lighting?”, asked Taylor.
“Amino acid. And, yeah, sure, lightning is one thought. There would need to be some kind of energy to get things going. But that’s not where I was going with that at all!”
Roger was getting frustrated. He knew Taylor was trying to work it all out, but it was slow going. The concept seemed to ravage his imagination like a lion tearing through a field of gazelles - it didn’t always strike the best ideas, but it’d almost always manage to tackle one of the weaker thoughts out on the side.
“So where was all this supposed to be happening then?”
“Imagine a bowl - no, a vase - no, that’s not it. How about imagining a casket? Yeah, that’s about the right dimensions. Imagine a casket filled with... slime. Yeah. The slime’s pretty warm, it’s got a hot spring or something bubbling up. Hey, that could even be another possible source of energy.”
Roger’s hernia twinged a bit again. Yeah, he was going to have to convince Taylor to drive him into town this afternoon. He couldn’t go on in with this pain. Never the less, he was aware enough that he could see the thoughts grinding through Taylor’s gears - the muscles twitching on his face hinting at the internal machinations. He could see them twitching come to an abrupt end: a sure sign that a pertinent query was forthcoming.
“But what about God? Where does He fit in? You’re talking about the beginning of all life and you haven’t mentioned the big guy yet.”
“Ah! Now you’ve asked the right question!”
Roger knew this heated discussion was going to take an interesting turn here. He knew this would be the point where they would continue for years and years going over old points to find new angles. They would never fight about the soup quite the same after all of that.
“So how exactly do you think that first - what’d you call it? Gambino acid? How’d it get going then? Lighting?”, asked Taylor.
“Amino acid. And, yeah, sure, lightning is one thought. There would need to be some kind of energy to get things going. But that’s not where I was going with that at all!”
Roger was getting frustrated. He knew Taylor was trying to work it all out, but it was slow going. The concept seemed to ravage his imagination like a lion tearing through a field of gazelles - it didn’t always strike the best ideas, but it’d almost always manage to tackle one of the weaker thoughts out on the side.
“So where was all this supposed to be happening then?”
“Imagine a bowl - no, a vase - no, that’s not it. How about imagining a casket? Yeah, that’s about the right dimensions. Imagine a casket filled with... slime. Yeah. The slime’s pretty warm, it’s got a hot spring or something bubbling up. Hey, that could even be another possible source of energy.”
Roger’s hernia twinged a bit again. Yeah, he was going to have to convince Taylor to drive him into town this afternoon. He couldn’t go on in with this pain. Never the less, he was aware enough that he could see the thoughts grinding through Taylor’s gears - the muscles twitching on his face hinting at the internal machinations. He could see them twitching come to an abrupt end: a sure sign that a pertinent query was forthcoming.
“But what about God? Where does He fit in? You’re talking about the beginning of all life and you haven’t mentioned the big guy yet.”
“Ah! Now you’ve asked the right question!”
Roger knew this heated discussion was going to take an interesting turn here. He knew this would be the point where they would continue for years and years going over old points to find new angles. They would never fight about the soup quite the same after all of that.
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