the planets. venus

VERHEIDEN: Mercury would not have been a wise acquisition, indeed.
FORHEISER: The scrubby guy?
VERHEIDEN: Correct.
FORHEISER: I’m picky about what or who I hang on my walls.
VERHEIDEN: Venus was also missing if I recall.
FORHEISER: Right.
VERHEIDEN: A striking absence, I would say.
FORHEISER: Why should I own Venus.
VERHEIDEN: You would own love.
FORHEISER: There’s no love in Venus.
VERHEIDEN: I thought you were keen on attributing gender to planets.
FORHEISER: I am.
VERHEIDEN: You are aware that Venus is a Goddess.
FORHEISER: Aham.
VERHEIDEN: Of love.
FORHEISER: It’s just facts, dude. The guy’s an asshole.
VERHEIDEN: The guy’s an asshole.
FORHEISER: I’m no wise fella, dude, but Venus is like the Australia of the Solar System.
VERHEIDEN: It is indeed a hot place.
FORHEISER: My place is hot. Venus is hell.
VERHEIDEN: The pressure does seem forbidding.
FORHEISER: For-what?
VERHEIDEN: Quite excessive.
FORHEISER: I’ll tell excessive. The Soviets sent some gear there in the 80s.
VERHEIDEN: A remarkable success.
FORHEISER: Yea, right, the thing made it the ground — we’re talkin’ Soviets here — but it died, like, in four seconds or so.
VERHEIDEN: Love can be ambiguous.
FORHEISER: He rains acid.
VERHEIDEN: Love can be bitter.
FORHEISER: He pukes lava.
VERHEIDEN: Love can be intoxicating.
FORHEISER: Venus burns you, crushes you, then melts you ’til you look like out of the devil’s ass.
VERHEIDEN: The Greeks did not know that.
FORHEISER: Right.
VERHEIDEN: They could only see the brightness of the golden dot, its balsamic shine, true to their earnest and their best, the only object worthy of their love.
FORHEISER: You’ve got some twisted love in there, man.
VERHEIDEN: Venusian love.
FORHEISER: Fact is, only the worst should be sent there. You know, like, Australia.
VERHEIDEN: What do you have against Australia.
FORHEISER: It wants to kill ya. I mean, REALLY, kill ya.
VERHEIDEN: Like Venus.
FORHEISER: Like Venus.
VERHEIDEN: You may have a point in that.