"Let's see how about Pablo Cruz?" said Bagley selecting a vial from a
rack of vials. He walked over to writhing Rick and said, "That first
shot simply destabilizes your DNA, and makes it receptive to
rewriting, overwriting specifically. This vial contains Pablo Cruz's
treated DNA. Pablo is a special case. His parents brought him here
for treatment after he escaped from Death Row. He has to be returned
to Death Row, but his parents are paying us handsomely to give their
boy a second chance. So we need another Pablo Cruz to send back to
Death Row."
The door opens and a young naked man in a wheel chair is rolled into
the room. His arms and legs and waist are secured with leather
straps.
"Ah, Pablo, so glad you could join us. We need the tattoo artist to
accurately copy your tattoos to the new you," he says emptying the
second gun with the vial marked Cruz, Pablo attached into Rick's
belly.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGH!" Rick screamed.
He had thought the pain before was excruciating. By comparison with
his new seething pain it was just a tap on the wrist, and this was the
grand piano dropped from a 10 story building.
"I'm not sure whether the new Pablo can hear or will be even aware of
anything except his pain for the next few minutes, Pablo. I want to
explain what we are doing and why."
"I know, my mama is rich. Mi abuelo left her his banks,
telecommunications and electronics companies. Really pissed off his
family in Mexico to leave everything to his illegitimate daughter in
the US. So you've injected your guinea pig boy with my DNA, and you're
going to make him a twin and return him to Death Row. Then I get some
plastic surgery and my tats removed and-"
"Not quite, Pablo. Your mother wants you to have a second chance to
grow up right. Instead of impoverished childhood in Los Angeles,
you'll be her handsome toddler in Beverly Hills. When the new you is
ready, the old you will be age regressed until you are 2 or 3. She
initially wanted a baby, but decided she wanted you out of diapers,
and wanted you to be five or six. I convinced her that potty training
was important character development, so you're going back to two."
"Potty training? I was in diapers until I was four! No way! Uh, this
talk about potty, could you unstrap me, I need to use the toilet."
"Garrison, get Pablo a catheter," Bagley ordered.
"Catheter? No, way - YEEEEEEOW!" screamed Pablo the glass tube was
roughly inserted in his penis.
Sobbing, Pablo muttered, "I need to go number two!"
A steel metal bed pan is shoved beneath him by the ever efficient Mr.
Garrison. Like the South Park character, Garrison is balding,
bespectacled and gay. He whispers softly into Pablo's ear, "Do you
need Mr. Hand to loosen things up?"
"No, no, I'm going right now!"
There was loud rude noise, a plop and a foul stench, followed by the
sound of moving liquid as the plastic pouch at the end of the catheter
tube filled with hot yellow liquid.
Garrison announced proudly, "Pablo made a nice poo and piss."
"TMI: Too much information," said Bagley in disgust. He picked up an
aerosol room deodorizer and started to spray the air around him.
Rick's scream had gotten higher pitched. His skin was darker but less
hairy. His body frame seemed to have shrunk. His struggles were
decreasing.
Pablo strained in his chair. He said, "Hey, he does look a lot like
me, but what's wrong with his dick? It looks like a sea cucumber?"
"That is how your dick would look, Pablo, if you hadn't been
circumcised as an infant. Garrison, add circumcision to the
procedures we need to conduct on the new Pablo."
"Hey, when you make me young can you give me back my foreskin? I hear
that sex is better with it than without," Pablo asked.
"We'll ask your mother, after all she's paying for everything."
Rick coughed and sat up as much as the restraints would allow.
"What the fuck did you do to me?"
"Weren't you listening? You now have the body of an 18 year old!"
"Hey, I'm 19!" Pablo chimed in.
"Soon to be two!" retorted Bagley.
"You cannot do this!"
"We already did, Pablo!"
"My name is Rick!"
"Put the other Pablo up on the other surgical table. We need to
extract his memories while the tattoo artist copies his tats onto the
new Pablo."
"Extract my memories! I don't think so. That sounds painful!"
"Yes, my boy, terribly painful, but as they say "No pain, no gain."
Mwahahaha!"
"I'll tell my mama!"
"After we remove your memories, I don't think you'll remember it baby
boy," Bagley chuckled.
Ferguson piped up, "The tattoo man is in the lobby."
"Well, get him back here stat. And find out if he can do a bris too?
Is anyone on staff qualified to circumcise the new Pablo?"
"Fuck, no, you're going to circumcise me too?" Rick gasped.
"Oh, I think that will hurt less than what you've already experienced.
I suspect the ass-stretching will be more painful."
"Ass-stretching?"
"Yes, while Pablo was in prison his roommate was called Salami. That's
part of why Pablo has bowel issues."
"No one's supposed to know!" Pablo sobbed from the other table where
Ferguson and Garrison secured him.
"Everyone would know we switched Pablo's if this one showed up at the
doctor's office with a virgin ass hole. Now let's get those memories
out Pablo and into Rick!"
Metal helmets were strapped under Rick's and Pablo's chins. They were
connected by multicolored wires to the computer behind.
"It's really a lot like copying a hard drive and then scrubbing it
clean," Bagley explained as the capacitors charged, and the
transformers started to hum.