Tried this yesterday, but I was interrupted by the phone.
A brilliant scientist had spent his life perfecting a technique of cloning a human from adult cells. He’d spent all of his energy working towards that single goal, and at last realized his dream using cells from his own body, from his gluteal muscles.
He nurtured the embryo to maturity and performed the “birthing” process himself, taking it for his own son. He worked hard at raising the boy, hoping one day to present him before the scientific community and recieve his accolades. He afforded his son every opportunity to succeed, tutored him in all the topics a growing mind could want, and tried to bring him up to be a model of a young man.
Alas, it soon became apparent that something had gone horribly wrong. Despite his best efforts the boy was rude and crude, the likes of which even the man’s own parents had never seen and could not explain. He was taken to psychologists, psychiatrists, physicians, and philosophers. None could determine the nature of the child’s festering mind. He was, it was universally decided, simply a “bad seed”.
This was simply too much for the scientist to take – the boy had come from his own genetic material, after all – shouldn’t he be no more bad-tempered than his progenitor? Forget “nature vs. nurture” – he had been nurtured as well as anyone could hope, and his nature was beyond doubt – unless…
The scientist was forced to confront the idea that perhaps something had gone wrong in the cloning process – he returned his son to the lab and secured a sample of tissue from the boy. The results were astounding – his son was, in fact, made up entirely from the kind of tissue that had been used to create him! The child was a complete ass!
Stunned though he was, the scientist was resolute. He had come to love the boy as though he was his actual son, and although his moment of scientific glory had been denied, he determined that he would still raise the boy to adulthood, never telling him of his origins.
The boy grew into a man, continuing all the while to torment his father – and, indeed, everyone he came in contact with – with taunts and torments of the most foul and bawdy nature. Day by day, the man grew more and more exhausted simply with keeping his progeny away from the rest of the world, hoping desperately to minimize the damage he could do.
Over time, the scientist became an old man, his health weakening until he realized that he could no longer continue to protect his world from his creation. He knew what he had to do. Taking his grown son in tow, he drove to the highest cliff above the city and stood there gazing out into the sky. From beside him, his troubled scion continued to mouth wanton and wicked suggestions, screaming them into the heavens. With a great sadness and a heavy heart, his father reached out and put his hand on the young man’s shoulder.
“Son,” he said, “there is one thing more I must do before I die. I hope you understand, and can forgive me.”
Looking around, his son replied “I understand, old man, I understand you can stick itaaahHHHHH!”
The old scientist had pushed his child over the edge of the cliff, and the grown clone fell into the chasm, shouting expletives all the way down the side of the mountain. Seemingly drained of all his energy, the old man sat down on the hood of his car. He saw flashing lights in the distance and could just hear the sound of the sirens on the wind.
He had known this would happen. Known the would come for him. He would spend his last few remaining years in prison, for everyone knows it is illegal to make an obscene clone fall.
