It is now time to stop your scientists from the refusal to believe in the mothman.

Mothmen exist and we we are angry. We are not invisible! You issue large stupidity, you, which is not intelligent, not once.

In playing your radio devices you sometimes find a Hush. That is not static as you believe but the language of the mothmen. If you drive into your automobile, we chant to you. Ours, they are music of the sky and the moon! We chant and you will dance.

Stupid people, the end for you come unexpectedly! If we breed, we put eggs in a line under leaves of the foliages. We are many and soon it is your daughters, who lay down their eggs in this way!

You do not fear? You are proud. This is pride unearned! The young of Mothmen fly for years and are eaten by birds. This is pride! We live in the sumps but soon will live in your rooms and carriages. Silence is our voices! Hush it is our voices. You once visualized honor in your hairstyle that is flowed towards the upwards, that is like the proboscis of the moth but that one is not the fashion of today. Unfortunately. Your honor is consumed like the burn of the gas vapor in the sump.

Be sure to regard your feet because we will pour our drinks of the tea and the opened coffee on the sandals of you in addition, and your women.

The time is NOW!

Frankly,
A Mothman