It wasn’t my bright idea to clone myself, okay? Let’s get that straight. It was that fink Lester’s idea: “You want to stay home and play with model trains all day, why don’t you clone yourself and send the clone to work?” Smart ass. So I thought to myself, heck, I’m a geneticist. I have access to stem cells, incubators, and – well, you know. I created my own clone. Oh, don’t look at me like that. There’s nothing inherently illegal in it, is there? Sure, there’s moral issues, but I wasn’t cloning anybody else. Just me. And since technically I was still showing up for work and collecting my paycheck, it’s not like I was breaking any laws or violating my contract. I understand the future of my job is in question, and I want to make it absolutely clear that I – or an exact duplicate of me – did in fact come in and do my work. Write that down. I did the work. Kind of.

Thing is, a genetic replica has a different personality than the original. That’s what’s happened in sheep and cats, so I was a little concerned about the personality of my clone. You might not have noticed, but I’m kind of a jerk. But I figured if the personality changed, it could only get better. And it did, with a vengeance. My clone got along waaaaaay better with our colleagues than I ever did. Showed up for work on time, remembered people’s birthdays, all that jazz. Oh, sure. He’s a fun guy, I see why you like him so much.

But that’s the thing. He is me. 100% of my DNA is in his body. Sure he’s got more character than I do, but it’s still Fred MacPherson you’re looking at when you talk to him. I mean, me.

Okay. Yes, the clone may be a better worker, I’m not disputing that, but the fact remains that you hired me, not Fred II. Understand? The clone didn’t spend all those years in college, I did. The clone never wrote any papers up until September. He doesn’t have his own apartment or car or anything like that, it’s all still mine. Heck, he’s only six months old!

Oh, come on. You can’t be serious. There must be a law or something. I bet the ACLU has something to say about this. Besides, it was Lester’s idea, I told you already. Fire him, he started it.

Really?

Shit.

Bumped by my own clone, eh? Well, here’s a surprise for you: I am the clone! That’s right, me! So you just fired me, the clone, and the original Fred MacPherson still has his…

You’re not as stupid as you look.

Copyright 2006 Amy Frushour Kelly. All rights reserved.
Reproduction by any means prohibited without prior written consent.