Quicki Clone
Sick of a housemate? Sick of a friend?
Spray em.
It only takes one ounce of raw DNA and a cheap can of Quicke Clone and your problems are over.
His young brother, Mathew, was getting real annoying lately, pathetic drunk that he was. Tanner had picked the sorry guy up six times this month, the 29 year old arrested half of them.
He shook up the can and sprayed at the dope saturated zombie in front of him. His brother not even bright enough to register the stream of mist, curdled as his brain was.
Tanner had jerked off enough into the can to make sure the transformation was as fast and easy as the packaging advertised.
The mist curled around the drug addled face of his brother and it seemed to sobered him. Not from the alcohol and smoke infusion he’d gotten high off of, but rather from the brain cells flowing in to replace the old worn out meat rotting inside the empty skull.
Tanner watched fascinated and just a little too excited as the powerful spray worked its charm. His brother’s sallow skin filling out like a balloon with Tanner's tanned slight muscles, popping out every needle scar and misbegotten tattoo. His brother’s patchy face grew in like a manicured lawn, light brown hair trimmed and healthy.
The form filled out before the mind could catch up, tightening the worn out stained tanktop and basketball shorts his brother hadn’t washed in weeks. Mathew seemed confused by the change, some aspect of Tanner’s wiser brain cells activating to reflect on the strangeness of his stronger body and new found distaste for the aftertaste of pot on his tongue.
Tanner could’ve stopped then and been satisfyied with his much improved younger brother. His pa would’ve been so proud up in heaven, watching how he helped his brother from his fall from grace.
But Matthew wasn’t worth a redemption arc. Or any of Tanner’s hard fought brains and body. The only guy who deserved that was Tanner. He concentrated the spray on Matthew’s face and it power washed any remains of the guys face and mind from its pathetic roots.
Tanner could see his self come into existence. The guy standing patient as Tanner finished of the bottle just to make sure none of Matthew tainted self stuck around to bring him down.
Tanner identical to the last pore, smiling calmly at him. Only differentiated by his sorry excuse for clothes, the last bits of Matthew’s waste.
“Think I need a shower Tanner” the guy said.
“Think I could help you with that Tanner” Tanner enjoyed himself saying. “Mind if I join you?” He said, already knowing the guys answer.
“You know I don’t” he said, predictably.
They walked to Tanners truck and he let the new guy drive. Matthew wouldn’t have been let anywhere in this truck that wasn’t the back, strapped down in a drunk stupor. Tanner though, Tanner could trust himself.
They left the empty can behind them as they drove off to a night to themselves. Finally free of their useless brother.
Quickee Clone.
Spray and Problems Go Away!
$15.99 with tax!