HAHA I AM A FAG AND I CAN'T CHANGE THIS TITLE ANYMORE
The cloning lab was hot.Steven didnt want to be here.He wiped sweat from his brow and looked at the charts.Saline count high.Blood sugar low.Damn.He looked at another failed clone.Its eyes,missing.Teeth,curved like a sick animals.Many times the lab made succsessful clones.Steven thought real quick,then remebered the failure rate.22%.But 22% was alot in the field of cloning.One-Touch Cloning in Arizona had a failure rate of 20%.That angered the higher ups.Suddenly the door opened and Chairman Robinson walked in,a fat cigar in his mouth.He looked around the room,eyes cold.A technician walked up to him.
"Sir there is no smoking allowed in here" the techie said,nervously.Robinson looked at him and smacked him so hard it drew blood.
"How DARE you talk to me like that?" Robinson said,furious.He grabbed the techie and lifted him off the ground with his right arm.His arm,which had been torn off by a floating skull creature during the war,was replaced by a cybronic implant,which,in turn made his arm stonger."Now son,can I still smoke?" he asked the technician,who panted with fear.
"Ye-yes sir." he said heavily,almost choked off by the tight grip of Robinson."Good boy" Robinson said,a grin on his face.He looked at Steven."You." He said,voice echoing in the room, "We need this sample cloned.".He approached Steven and handed him a flask.Inside was blood.The lable said "Ryan Storms".
"Yes sir,right away" Steven said,calm.
"Good.Right NOW!" Robinson screamed.Ever since the war he had gone almost insane due to the loss of his arm.He turned around and walked out of the room,a trail of smoke behind him.This is gonna be ONE of those days Steven thought.