Dr. Evil and his evil twin doctor
By James Pugsley
So it has finally happened. Just like the Saturday morning cartoons said it would.
With the announcement of an intent to clone humans, the western world's most devious minds, those creepy mad scientists (and their not-so-clever assistants named Igor) have begun the ultimate devilish plot of every Dr. Evil a plan to create an army of Schwarzeneggers and Stallones to take over the world.
Well, not really. In fact, it almost seems like American scientist Richard Seed (the real Dr. Evil) really believes in what he says; that by cloning human organs, people could potentially live forever.
Sure Richard, or can I call you Dick? Unless of course, Dick is the name of your clone?
The only person who would ever take advantage of such an immortally immoral act would be somebody like Saddam Hussein or Kevin Costner (or anybody else who wants to make the world suffer forever).
Simply put, cloning human parts is the worst thing Dr. Evil could do. There, I said it. Simply put, cloning is the worst thing Dr. Evil could do. There, I said it twice.
But it's not like anything I or anyone else says will make a difference to this God-playing proposition since, I believe, cloning has already begun in some dungeonesque lab somewhere near Area 51.
Conspiracy theory? Not really. I mean, look at the sheep project. Just after scientists announced they were playing with the thought of cloning muttons, they introduced the world to one-year-old cloned "Dolly the sheep." Hmmm. The experimental stage went a little fast, don't you think? Now, with humans entering a similar phase, it's just a matter of time before Richard introduces the world to Dick, the one-year-old scientist.
Heck, for all I know, there's probably another me sitting at a desk somewhere in Argentina typing a story that supports cloning. Furthermore, I bet he is reading this article on the Internet and laughing to himself out loud that I have finally figured out what's going on.
Well, if that's the case, I guess I should introduce myself to myself right now:
Hello, friend. My name is James. You know what I look like. And if you are reading this, you must know where I am which makes you a bastard for not emailing me... no wait, I never email anybody either. Damn. Anyway, I hope to hear from you soon and feel free to send me any clothes you don't want, since they probably fit (assuming you didn't overeat at Christmas, no wait, you must have the same will-power I do).
This is too freaky. Thanks a lot, Dr. Evil.