Squid Out of Water
Then eugenics comes along and is taken very seriously by a bunch of guys in the 30's who set out to breed a "superior race" of people with good genes (blond hair, blue eyes, ability to juggle chainsaws and have lungs capable of yodelling for an extended period of time), something which is still considered a superior thing in pornos and Japan.
And, like that over-excited gentleman who always turns up at bucks parties and ends up with a dead stripper on his hands, we took things a little too far. By 'we' I do not mean the human race but me and my colleagues at the cloning Jesus project.
I arrive at the Mad Science Lab under the New Bethlehem Hospital at 3am. The call came in ten minutes ago and I came as soon as I could. I burst through the doors. 'Yo! What's the happy haps?', I ask gravely. Lim: 'We've had a JC ( one of the failed Jesus-clones) escape.'
'Shit. Please tell me it was JC 144-PIERROT the white-faced, tragic clown Jesus.'
Lim shakes his head almost wistfully.
'Was it JC 236-JACKALOPE? The messiah crossed with a jackrabbit and an antelope?'
'It's going to be bad isn't it?'
The cell where we housed JC 271-LEVIATHAN is empty. Being an underwater creature we needed to install a tank full of fresh sea water and we had kept LEVIATHAN placated with bucket-fulls of his favourite food, plankton and murdered sailors, but it's obvious now that he wanted something we couldn't give him. Freedom. I peruse the cell to find out how he had managed this daring escape.
The surveillance cameras are covered with a black, anchovy-smelling goo. LEVIATHAN was a mutating sea monster so he may have grown an ink sac like his cousin octopus and used that to blind our electronic eye. Or maybe he always had this ability and kept it secret from us for a day just like today. He must have waited in the darkness until one of the mercenaries we hired as guards came to investigate and opened the door. And in that instant LEVIATHAN lashed out with one of his many tentacles, ripping the jaw clean off the merc. I stand over the jaw-less corpse of our fallen comrade and offer a short, yet poignant eulogy ('Squid got your tongue?') before heading back to the control room.
We get confirmation on the eleventh call. Terry the one-eyed intern: 'One of the cabbies working for one of the taxi companies "vaguely" remembers picking up a guy who looks like a cross between Jesus Christ and a multi-tentacled sea creature and dropped him off at the beach. Apparently LEVIATHAN was a good tipper.'
'Damn! We have to act fast. Hand me the phone. I...have to make an unpleasant call.'
Fatter than a speeding bullet,
-Long time readers will have by now realised that I am a big fan of people who can juggle chainsaws. And kittens.