"Happy new year, evolution! Do you have any resolutions?"

"Yeah. I decided that everything I make is going to look completely normal from now on."

"Wow, really? You mean like this northern fulmar bird here? He seems lovely.”

"Yeah. Hey, just don’t get within like ten feet of that guy, okay, or he might projectile vomit neon orange half-digested fish oil in your face.”

"Never change."

"Look at all my pretty Christmas trees!"

"Christmas trees?"

"Yeah, Christmas trees."

"Evolution, those are worms.”

"Shhhhhhhh! Don’t spoil the magic."

Look, evolution, the ’80s are over. Tell the red-crested pochard it’s time to move on.

Evolution couldn’t decide which color to make this tiger moth, so it went with all of them.

"Look at this psychedelic frogfish I made! Isn’t it rad?”

“Wow, that’s a pretty cool pattern. Wait, what is it doing?”

“Don’t you think it’s pretty?”

“Yeah, but why can’t it swim right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Its tail isn’t straight and it’s hurling itself against rocks, evolution.”

“Oh. Right. That.”

“Yeah, that.”

“Well, I spent so long doing the pretty lines, I sort of… ran out of time to work on locomotion.”

“Ran out of time? You had literally millions of years.”

“There are a lot of lines, okay?”