Harvey was a contented lightbulb. His best friend was a pair of scissors named Mannheim and Mathilda.
They sat together on a low table in someone's house. In this harsh world it is hard to find a pair of scissors and a lightbulb being such good friends. But even so, they were, and often discussed politics, theology, entomology, and nuclear astrophysics with each other.
But, alas, the mind of the scissors is only as sharp as its blades, and the mind of the lightbulb is only as bright as its tungsten. So this relationship was doomed from the start. Harvey got dimmer daily, and Mannheim and Mathilda weren't getting any younger. On a cold February morning, Harvey died. His friends couldn't bear teh prospect of a Harveyless life, so they were locked in eternal embrace and never let go until they were incinerated.
And when they all reached Metal Heaven, all the stars were dim at Harvey's glow and all the mountains dull by Mannheim and Mathilda's comparison.
Moral: Love Conquers All.