Bring out your dead!

I’ve been instructed to tell you that I am still alive – at least nominally. On the other hand, I could just be a clone and my original body has been origamied into the freezer we keep in the archive for some reason. There’s a hefty lock on it and nobody seems to know where the key is, so short of bringing in my bolt-cutters, I can only speculate.

I do know that my company will be in weapons-grade doo-doo if I expire before completing my current project, so while they are invested in keeping me functional, the task deadlines are stupidly unreasonable and that places some rather onerous demands on my time.

Home life continues to emulate a kinetic sculpture fashioned out of a spinning fan and ballistic turd launcher and I’m not strong enough to get into that just yet. What do we say to the God of Disaster? Not today!

The daily double

Human cloning is still allegedly in the realm of science fiction, but I have my suspicions that we have a working prototype hidden in a dusty corner somewhere in the archive.

There has been a noticeable trend in the company where managers become progressively more unhinged as time goes by. I can only conclude that we are experiencing a Multiplicity type scenario – where the copies make copies of themselves and each subsequent copy loses resolution in the process.

Either that, or someone has dosed the executive lounge water cooler with hallucinogens again.