t-975-h

by fred flynn

a soft afternoon light filtered through the window of the laboratory. dr frank cleared his throat. “well, doctors, i think we can congratulate ourselves on doing all that we can. the creature is as ready as it is going to be, and we may as well set it loose.” drs fromm and dee nodded their assent, and technical assistant fry added “hear, hear”. the creature, known officially as t-975-h, but usually referred to by the doctors as “t”, represented the final flowering of the human race. the three doctors, assisted by fry, had been working for years on the final modification needed to assure the creature’s perfection - its ability to reproduce itself. but now the problem had been solved. when the creature felt that the time had come that, for whatever reason, it did not wish to prolong its own existence, it had only to punch in, or say aloud, the code - which happened to be “spicy brown mustard” - and a perfect copy of itself would emerge from its left big toenail. with this last problem solved, “t” could now be released into the environment created for it, where it would exist in an eternal temperature of 65 degrees, and have unlimited water, oxygen, and protein-bearing green plants. and, most importantly, it would be completely alone, with no other creatures to abuse, alienate, exploit, or oppress it, or that it could itself be tempted to abuse, alienate, exploit, or oppress. fry unlocked and opened the door of the laboratory, and he and the three doctors watched as the liberated t-975-h shuffled off into the world created for it. somewhat to their surprise, it did not look back, but proceeded down the road at a good pace. dr frank shouted after it, “and don’t come back, complaining that you are bored!” the other three had a good laugh at this, and they closed the door and went back inside the laboratory. t-975-h continued along the road until it was out of sight of the laboratory. it sat down on a smooth rock (all the rocks in the environment were smooth). i am bored, it thought, but i can not just go back and say so. and i am lonesome. so lonesome i could cry. a tear fell from its eye. back in the laboratory, drs frank, fromm, and dee, and assistant fry lit up cigars, poured themselves glasses of whiskey, and sat down to a game of whist. they cut cards for first deal and dr dee won.