Last night I discovered something cool about my basement. Anything that goes down there gets cloned. I discovered this when I went downstairs to do my laundry, and two of me came back up. At first I thought it was a walking mirror, but then I realized that I had been cloned.
We did what any sane clone and non-clone duo would do. We named our cloning machine. After a little debate, we decided on "The Clone Zone." The rhyming was really important to both of us.
I was ready to go to bed at that point, but the other me insisted that we toy around with the clone zone. So we got our hands on anything that was clonable. We had a couple plants, a fish, the dog from next door, a painting of an iguana, and somehow he got his hands on an ostrich. That whole ostrich thing would make a good post on its own, but we're blogging about clones here. The point being, now I have two ostriches.
Unfortunately for my clone, I had to tie him to a post in the forest and let the wolves have him. There were just too many problems with having a clone. Mostly I didn't have enough shirts, and I really didn't like the idea of sharing my wardrobe. That just weirds me out. Doesn't anybody else think that's weird?
3 comments:
I think you hit on a number of important ideas at some point.
I would have went with The Clone Ultimatum. The Clone Supremacy would be good too, but that's just asking for trouble.
Yeah it's pretty weird. When I was a little kid I had to share my wardrobe with the boogeyman. He was an alright guy, except he snored like a banshee.
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