What if you could create a clone? Would you do it and if so what would you make your clone do that you don’t want to? What if your clone ends up better at doing things than you are?
To clone or not to clone, that is the question.
Many people would in fact think it was a no brainer, the answer to all their problems. Send the clone to work while you spend the rest of your days living the life of reilly. Great idea, but it is actually a little more complex than that, here are some reasons why clones would be a good idea from both the male and female perspective, whose list do you think will be the longest?
Nagging wife / Girlfriend? – No problem, send in the clone while you watch the football beer in hand.
Man Flu – Skip out the door for a fishing trip while the clone lies on the sofa, snotters tripping him.
Shopping -Let the clone ooh and ahh and carry all the bags for a change, there are better things to do with a Saturday.
Dinner date – A suited and booted clone accompanies your girl while you hit the clubs in an attempt to find a new one.
Housework – The multi tasking clone allows you to potter around the garage as it swiftly cleans and dusts the whole house lighting Yankee Candles as it goes.
Romance and Flowers – Who’s got time for all that malarkey, give the clone £20 and send it on it’s merry way.
Ironing – You’d rather smooth Brylcreem through your hair than an iron over your Y fronts, isn’t that what clones are for.
D.I.Y – Having a clone really does put a new spin on this, because technically you are doing it yourself. Win, win!
Cooking – Wash and wax the car as the clone prepares an intimate candlelit dinner for two.
Intimacy – The clone can handle all the kissing, cuddling and hand holding crap, for everything else the clone can read a newspaper, because sometimes if you want a job done right you just gotta do it yourself, nudge nudge, wink wink.
Kick out the man. Keep the clone and give it a copy of the Kama Sutra for Christmas. Simples!
Only joking guys, don’t get your knickers in a twist :) I know very few of you are actually like this.
Polly Carmichael had to face facts, she was lost. Unbelievably and hopelessly so!
The white corridor ahead seemed to stretch on for ever and ever, but was it an entrance or an exit, she had no idea.
From behind came the dull murmur of voices. Someone was crying, heartbreaking sobs, but she was no longer inclined to head that way, something, some force was nudging her forwards.
Unsteady, she placed her small hand against the cool walls, and gingerly took a step forward.
“There are only three things you need to remember Polly if you are to venture out, a compass, a torch and a coat. That is all you will ever need,” wasn’t that what her father had told her.
Looking down at her nightdress and fluffy slippers she sighed. “I am unprepared Papa,” she whispered into thin air. “I have no compass, and I am cold.”
Steadily, one foot in front of the other, she made her way along the corridor, hardly daring to breathe, certainly not looking down.
Just as she was starting to feel a little more sure of herself, Polly’s foot hit against something hairy. With a gasp and a squeak she stopped dead in her tracks.
“Ouch”, came a gruff little voice from below, “will you watch where you’re going!”
“Teddy? Teddy is that you?”
“Polly? What on earth are you doing here?” replied a bemused little voice.
“Oh Teddy, I am so glad to see you. I’m lost, which must mean you are lost, so we’re both lost, and Papa is going to be very cross because I have neither a coat nor a compass. What are we going to do?”
“Erm, not panic for starters.”
“But Teddy, don’t you see………”
Polly’s sentence was cut short because right at that very moment the sound of very loud footsteps could be heard, footsteps that seemed to be getting closer.
Polly paled, and looking down with frightened eyes addressed the equally as frightened bear, “Teddy, it’s a giant, we need to hide, NOW!!”
Bending down she scooped Teddy into her arms, “Hold on tight,” she whispered, preparing to run.
Turning on her heel, she was stopped dead in her tracks by a large booming voice in the distance, “Polly, are you lost in your daydreams again? For goodness sake girl, I asked you to put the kettle on half an hour ago!”
They said they have never known this to happen before. They don’t know what to do with me. I scare them.
I am scared myself, but I cannot let them know.
I don’t look or feel any different.
I wear the same clothes, the same boots, jewellery and carefully selected slogan tee, ‘Welcome to the Darkside’, how apt. If my situation were not so utterly ridiculous I would laugh.
“Some of you must know what’s happened, what did we do today that we have not done any other day?” Peter is frantic, pacing the floor, barely keeping it together.
“Calm down Peter, we need to think.”
“Calm down, seriously, calm down, are you having a laugh, look at her. James, LOOK at her, it’s too late!”
“I can see ok, I can see, but you wittering in my ear is not helping me think. There might still be time.”
Carla leads Peter to a chair and makes him sit. On the way past she touches my arm and gives me a look. I can see the gesture, but I feel nothing more than a slight breeze brush past the spot where her hand lies.
I don’t understand how I can be so calm about this. Why am I not freaking out. I feel more relaxed than I have in a long time.
“We promised her nothing like this would happen.” Peter again, his voice is starting to grate on my nerves.
“It’s not like we planned it for fuck sake, is that what you think, you knew the risks and so for that matter did she.”
Carla lays her hand on James’ arm, “Leave him be, this won’t help.”
They are getting further away, they are blurring and now for the first time I start to panic.
“She’s fitting. Quick James help me.” Carla lays her arms across my chest, pushing me back onto the bed. I feel nothing, but I see everything.
Breathe, I need to breathe. Think albatross. Slow easy breaths.
“It’s passing.” Carla relaxes her grip.
They can’t see it, but I can. My view of my own lifeless body is unobstructed, all that holds me together is a sliver of lifestream, my soul. If I can perhaps use it to pull myself back I can……
Peter is up and pacing again, his anxiety peaking, “Look what we’ve done, this was only supposed to be an out of body experience, if we can’t get her back you know what will happen. You KNOW what will she will become.” To prove his point he opens his arms and gestures across my body.
He cuts the lifeline, as easily as if it were nothing more than a fine spiders web. There was no way he could have known. I can feel all hope leave me. Every good feeling, every happy memory.
He is crying now. “You know she will become a Dementor.”
NASA has perfected space travel and created a livable environment on Mars. In an attempt to colonize they have invited you to be among the first inhabitants of the red planet. Do you accept and if so, what is your experience?
Thank you for informing me that I have been randomly selected for the ‘Trip to Mars Draw’.
Winning a ticket would invoke the same reactions in me as it did in Charlie when he won his Golden Ticket to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, only I didn’t run all the way home because my leg is knacked, and I’m too lazy. The other advantage I have however, is that going to Mars will make me lighter, whereas going to the chocolate factory would definitely have made me heavier!
So here’s the thing, I’d give strong consideration to going but I don’t reckon I’d last too long. You’ve heard the old saying about a fart in a spacesuit right? well if I eat beans and I drop one I’m a goner. There are no second chances….I am D E A D! But by the same token, if I cut a blow hole in my spacesuit will I die anyway when the atmosphere penetrates? This is a real worry!
I’m not sure I like the idea of having to chase my food around the house much either. I’ve seen the adverts, an open bag of M&M’s fly in all directions, I mean what’s the use of that, by the time I round all the feckers up, I’d be too tired to eat them! Do you have any way of combating this catastrophe?
I’ve been known to see red on a few occasions, but how would I cope seeing it on a daily basis? and the floors, how would I keep them clean? I don’t want people tramping that red dust stuff all over my clean carpets. I suppose I could make them wear plastic bags on their feet….aye, not a bad idea that, so just ignore my last.
I’ve wanted a dog for a long time, will they be allowed? I could never have one here because I’m at work all day, but you’re telling me I wouldn’t have to work so I’d have plenty of time. If I took it out for a walk would it be like trailing a balloon after me, or do you have special little boots for them too? Also could you design some kind of little umbrella that attaches to it’s tail to catch the poop as it floats into space? or is it something more primitive, like a butterfly net for example?
It’s a lot to take in, and there is a lot to leave behind, so I am not sure what my answer would be if I won the draw. If you could however provide the answers to the questions I have asked that may assist with the decision making process.
Tell us what movie you are from and what character you are (or don’t and try to make us guess). Now write me a post as that character.
Anything goes with the What if challenge so if you want to wimp out and write me a post as Batman go ahead, but I think Michael Myers or Dumbledore might make a better post. Maybe Sir Ulrich von Lichtenstein or Bruce Leroy (Two of my favorite characters, bonus points to anyone who knows the movies they are from).
Or maybe even a random character from your favorite movie that no one else has heard of. Just have fun with it.
So I guess I should really introduce myself, my name is Warren, well it’s not actually Warren, but that’s what folks call me, and I am a store clerk at ‘Empire Records’ which has to be the coolest place on the planet to work.
The staff of the store are certainly a little kooky and eccentric, but I feel like I belong now. They have become almost like family, wait, what am I saying, they are my family. Boy am I glad I got caught shoplifting!
Yep, you heard right, I was shoplifting from the store, when Lucas, the guy in the black turtle neck chased, hell no, played cat and mouse with me, before knocking me into next week with an open car door.
Perhaps in hindsight going back to the store later that day with the gun was a bad idea, but it was loaded with blanks, what harm could it do. It was the only way I could think of to get their attention. It sure scared the customers. Scared the shit outta me the first time it went off too.
Deb came for me, crazy girl, she wasn’t afraid of the gun or nunthin, just stared at it and walked right for it. That kinda unnerved me and everything started to unravel.
They figured out what I was after, perhaps they knew all along. Hanging round the shop just for one day was the closest I had come to family in a long time. Joe seemed to understand and he even offered me a job. That’s how I ended up here, I mean come on, with eejits like this, how could you not want to work here……
If you want to know more about our story then watch the movie, you will not be disappointed!
What if you let your dark side take over?
An unfortunate event has allowed the Devil to own your soul. He has decided to give you a chance to get it back but to win it you must bring a smile to the Devil’s face with your actions. He allows you to have one full day in which you can do anything your heart desires without fear of consequences, retaliation, retribution or prosecution.
An unusual turn of events indeed. I have been pondering this one for a few days, well since Sunday, when the challenge went up. No one willingly wishes to court the Devil, so the conundrum is, how best to tackle this unfortunate event and in fact turn it to your advantage.
The Devil dislikes my body, he has no option but to use it as a host, so will spend endless hours fashioning it into a more visually pleasing and competent, super human vessel. Even without the option of choice, I will secretly marvel at my new svelte frame and flowing strawberry blond (gingerish) locks, some things it seems just cannot be amended. From the array of clothes that my new figure opens the opportunity of, I will select a black all in one jumpsuit, that clings to every curve and makes both womens and men’s heads turn. “Who are you?” they will say, awed by my presence and I shall reply, “I am the Ginga Ninja, remember my name, for it will be the ruination of many.”
The Devil turns his gaze from me, just for a few minutes. It seems his addiction to Starbucks coffee is just the same as any mortals. His lapse in concentration affords me the chance to substitute the list of victims he has provided, with my own.
He bids me farewell, a wry smile on his face. It would appear he does indeed derive great pleasure from a soul in torment. I have 3 hours in which to perform 3 kills, if I am to make the Devil smile and regain my soul.
I slip into an apartment block just west of Sudsly Avenue. It is run down and dingy. Rats scuttle at my feet as I read the names on the mail boxes. Smiling, I mentally note the number and proceed to climb the stairs, mumbling about the fact that his nibs did not consider flying as an option, when it could have been so helpful. Stubborn bloody man.
Two henchmen guard the door, but they are no match for the Ginga Ninja and I quickly dispense of them and hide their bodies in the broom cupboard, giggling to myself about the cliché of it all.
True to his form, Bubbles the Beast McGinn is in the bath. It takes him a minute to realise I am there. “My boss sent me” I say. I am instantly recognizable as soulless, so I am not surprised by the look of shock on his face as I push his head below the water, holding it there until the beast bubbles no more.
Lunchtime – Kentucky Fried Chicken for a Boneless Banquet for One – Gravy as the side. What ffs??? A girls gotta eat. This assassination lark is not easy and besides my feet are killing me in these high heeled boots!
Destination downtown Dumpsville. A laundromat on the corner of Persil Place. The sign in the window asks for young female workers, promising good benefits and competitive rates of pay. Rita the Rinser has been using the same ploy for years to lull young girls into her lair. She promises them the earth before she drugs them and sells them on as either prostitutes or slaves. I spy her loading washing into a huge clanking machine and quick as lightening I am behind her. Again she can sense I am soulless and visibly relaxes, that is until I whisper in her ear, “My boss sent me” and push her headlong into the machine, setting it for boil wash.
A quick call into Manicures for the Mighty. I need to look in pristine condition for my next job, the last on my list.
A prestigious fashion house. In full stealth mode I hitch a ride to the top floor hidden in a rack of clothes. I see my prey hunched over, pencil in hand, sketching out the new seasons trends. Saying not a single word I snap his neck like a twig.
Grabbing a Starbucks I head back to ‘Satan’s Shack’ a prestigious gambling establishment I know he with the horns frequents. Sure enough, there he is surrounded by women and being fawned over by men. I step forward and offer the Starbucks.
Me: “I’m all finished, can I have my soul back please?”
Devil: “Why would you even ask such a stupid question, you have just killed two of my most loyal staff members, how could you ever imagine this would please me.”
Me: “I thought you knew everything ffs. Every night those two pray to God to forgive them for theirs sins. Every night their excuse is the same, ‘the devil made me do it’. In the end they were going to be detrimental to your business, and besides you’re going to save a fecking fortune on bubbles and soap powder.”
Devil: (sniggers) “Dam, you made me laugh, and by the terms of our agreement I must give you back your soul. Get out of my sight, I never wish to lay eyes on you again.”
Me: “Suits me. Any chance I can keep the body till the morning though?”
Devil: “GET OUT!!”
I figure my svelte figure could disappear at any second, so I decide to make as much as I can of the little time I have left and head to my local pub ‘The Pearly Gates’. Peter my favourite barman is on and after greeting me with a smile he pushes a pint of water across the bar to me.
Peter: “Busy day huh?”
Me: “Sure was. Is the boss happy?”
Peter: “Delighted, he’s been after those two for a while, however he did mention the fact that you deviated from the original plan and added in an extra assassination. There were only meant to be two.”
Me: “Yeah I know,”
Peter: “So enlighten me. The first two I can understand, but the third one has left me a little confused as well.”
Me: (shrugs shoulders) It was just for fun, and pretty simple really, the devil wears Prada.
What if your hometown is attacked by a monstrous, flying, fire-breathing dragon?
Do you run and hide? Do you break out the medieval weapons you’ve been hoarding for just this moment? or Do you try to calm the beast by singing it a lullaby?
Seriously?! I mean come on, what kind of a stupid question is that…obviously the answer is that I would run round and round in circles squealing like a banshee, flapping my arms, tears a streaming and most likely leaving skid marks….and I don’t mean on the road either. What the feck else is there to do if your hometown is being attacked by a fire breathing dragon, stop and say hello?
Ach hiya Fred, long time no see. Hot out tonight isn’t it. Any chance of you sitting still there for 5 minutes till I toast this marshmallow?
One singed arse and a set of singed eyebrows later I’m guessing the answer is no!
That said, whilst pondering this momentous, monstrous happening over a cup of coffee I started to realise there are ways this could be turned to my advantage.
So I’m figuring that the dragon will need to take a flying charge at me. In order to do this, if I am to believe all the films I have watched, said dragon will fly in a semi circle, huff, puff and prepare for world incineration. So my delusion….erm conclusion would be that as the dragon approaches, opening it’s mouth, I have a 30 second window in which to throw all the rubbish from my house that I no longer want , but have not yet been able to transport to the dump, into it’s path. Even better, I concluded that throwing a couple of fireworks into the middle of the rubbish would make the affair a little more exciting for everyone. Instant street party, fancy dress, come as a kebab attire optional!
I reckon I’d be so famous that I would have to write all about my exploits that day, luckily I already have a title in mind for my forthcoming autobiography, it’s “The Day I Got My Buttcheeks Burnt”. I figure I’ll get myself a T shirt printed as well.
Sure my ass hurts, but I mean weighing up the options which would you choose, sitting in a rubber ring all day or being awarded an ‘ODE’ by the Queen. And no ya feckin eejits, the Queen didn’t write me a poem, ODE stands for ‘Order of the Dragon Empire’.
Mind you, this sitting in a rubber ring malarky could add many new chapters to the whole Joys of Modern travel thing I have going on right now.
Anyway, I am much to important to talk to you all anymore, if you need any further information I suggest you buy the book. When you go to the store to purchase it, tell them I sent you and with a bit of luck they will give you one with writing inside!
What if you were a mad scientist? Do you want to create a monster like Frankenstein? Would you be bent on destroying the world or taking it over?
What if indeed, the possibilities would be endless.
I am assuming here that ‘mad’ means that, as we say here in Norn Iron, the lift does not go to the top floor, as opposed to ‘mad’ where I constantly break test tubes and hurl my bunsen burner because it did not toast my bread evenly!
As a mad scientist, my invention would be totally random, I’ve mentioned it in blogs before, and even have a page named after it! I, would invent the Music Bubble!
I am appreciative of the fact that there are MP3 players and Ipods, which in effect allow you to create your own little music bubble, but how many times have you been plonked next to someone who’s music does not stay within the confines of the headphones, but instead knocks at your head like an irritating woodpecker! I know I have, and I am so conscious of indeed being that person that I listen to my music at a much lower level than I would actually like!
The Music Bubble would be revolutionary and contain a new system called “Doesntmatterhowlouditisnofeckersgonnahearit” [patent pending]. It would hold all the music you ever bought, due to it’s ability to link to the cloud system, an idea which someone stole from me in it’s infancy!
The bubble also cleverly doubles as a force field. How many times have you been listening to your music, lost in the atmosphere it creates, when someone or something walks into you, I mean really ffs, did that lamp post not look where it was going! Well no more, the bubble will knock obstacles back into next week, allowing you to enjoy and appreciate your tunes in peace!
I know personally, there have been times when I have been standing at a particular place, or caught up in a moment, where I would love to hear music. Watching a sunset, watching the rain fall, watching someone go arse over tit, everything has a tune. The music bubble has the instant ability to assess your thoughts and emotions and select the appropriate tune from your vast library, often times before you even think of it yourself.
The name for this marvelous invention – well, i’m torn, it’s either going to be “Look at yer woman in thon big bubble thing” or “The Soundtrack to your Life”.