Freedom. So many have given their lives to preserve it.
For some, freedom meant an end to slavery. For me, it meant being able to use stem cells – and a heap of grant money - to perfect replicant technology. Cloned humans.
Think of the possibilities! Replacement organs. Better: being able to answer the age-old question: What if?
I had to know. It was a bitch getting the DNA, but somehow I managed.
He comes out of the gel-tank tomorrow. Twelve weeks of deep-sleep hypnopaedia, and he’ll be ready for his stovepipe hat.
Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Abraham Linclone.
[This story, an homage to Laurence Simon, was inspired by a typo while I was writing a comment. Laurence is, of course, the author of The Wacky Adventures of Abraham Lincoln, a series of 100-word podcasts. ]
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