Antnee knew it was a good idea. The more stars he saw through his telescope, the more popcorn he would need to make for his diorama. He had been popping off all day. Life was like butter. Stars shaped by force. After winter break, he would bring his diorama in to the Science Fair and people would see all the constellations in the sky. At the same time. Which, Antnee knew, you can’t do from one point on Earth. I mean, not to be a nerd, he thought, but when you’re in the Northern Hemisphere you see the stars in the Northern Hemisphere. How’re you gonna see the Southern Hemisphere unless you go to Auckland, which sounds like awkward, which is what I am, he thought. You’ll never see all the stars all at once. You’re probably not going to be able to bend over, suck your own dick, and shove your head up your ass, either. But, if you walk by my Science Fair project, you will see it all. More than everything! Most people are born, or are birthed if you want to make it sound more active, and then they hold all of their laughter inside. The laughter, he thought, turns into rage, which turns into smiles. Smiles are definitely not the same thing as mirth. And if you don’t know that, well, what else are you missing out on that you don’t know, either? Neptune was there and no one knew it. They argued about it because they saw a wobble in one of the moons of one of the other planets. So they looked in their telescopes again and there it was, in 1846. This might set a precedent. Are you having a bad day, he wanted to ask the girls in his class? Maybe there’s a moon following you around. Actually, Antnee thought he would make a sign next to his diorama. This is as good as it has ever been, it would say. If you want things to get better, kiss me under the popcorn night sky. Antnee enjoyed these thoughts. But, you know, I am looking through this telescope using human eyes. Why don’t I add in all the stars I don’t even see? And it was a good idea. And he would need much more popcorn.