You weren't there when it happened, although you were, in a sense, there afterward. It was blind chance. Your mother's genes and your father's genes, and the delicate engineering process of nature: throw everything together, and if it survives, great.
It's pretty much how you handle your own life, so don't complain. You've got a wife, you've got a kid, and you don't know your cells produce protein P145-beta-3.
It won't give you cancer. It won't give you superpowers, for that matter. All it can do, when combined with other stuff and a three billion dollars manufacturing plant, is create a really good plastic. That's all.
Ah, and the DNA sequence for it? Patented three years ago.
Which is why there are cops kicking down your door right now. Nothing personal.
Copyright infringement.
Tell your kid to be quiet. They are taking him too.
.finis.
Brevity is the width of soul.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I have now read all the original fics in your blog.
You are a genius. Write more.
~mosellegreen
Post a Comment