"What's happening to me, Joe?" you ask softly sipping more coffee.
"Oh, you're becoming Joe, Joe. You know all that stuff about making
clones by growing them in big fish tanks? That's just hooey. The
real way to make clones - adult ones not babies - is to take adult
humans and rewrite their DNA's. The world is becoming Joe. The joe in
your cup delivered the retrovirus nanobot cocktail that's making you
one with us. You're part of the Joeness now Joe."
"Cool, Joe," you say nodding. It all makes sense.
"Doesn't always workout like it's supposed to though, Joe," Joe
confides. He nods to the obvious dyke sitting sipping coffee, and
whispers, "His genetic code lost its Y and replicated two X's. We call
him-er, her, Jo."
"Oh," you say with wide eyes and a nod. It's good to be Joe.
You adjust your crotch. It feels odd all tingly.
You tap Joe on the shoulder and whisper, "Say, Joe, my downstairs
feels a bit different. What's up with little joe?"
"Oh, Joe, how big were you before? Were you cut or uncut? Did you have
any curve? Were your nuts tight or low hangers?" he asks quickly.
"Uh, well-"
"Don't matter, Joe," he laughs, "You're Joe now. All are little joes
are identical." He winks and nudges you, "When you look, you won't be
disappointed." He looks at your tenting trousers, and adds, "Though
you may need to get some jeans with a skosh more room."