Thursday August 31st, 2017

The exercise:

Write about: a victimless crime.

And just like that, we're done with August for the year. Hard for me to believe we're welcoming the beginning of September already.

There's a big forest fire burning to the south of us and we could see the smoke coming our way this afternoon. Blue sky overhead, wall of grey sky approaching from the south. Hopefully the wind disperses some of that and we're not totally inundated tomorrow.

Speaking of tomorrow, back to work I go...

Mine:

Go on, take the money -
Who will ever know?
Ain't nobody watching,
From above or below.

What about your conscience?
Man, who even has those anymore?
This is your chance! You've been knocked down,
Now it's time to get up off the floor!

Just think of all your bills: paid.
All those creditors: gone.
Your life's been out of tune, man,
It's time to sing a sweeter song.

Go on, take the money,
Who will ever know?
You've been rained on for so long,
Let this be your rainbow...

3 comments:

morganna said...

Don't worry, they'll never notice
One little missing apple. I'll just
Go climb the tree and grab one.

Dang, they noticed.
One measly little apple and I'm
Getting yelled at, "Don't climb the tree!"

=================
Based on a true story.

Greg said...

@Morganna: that's quite sweet and amusing! I like the repeated acrostic too, and now I'm curious: was it you climbing the tree...? :)
@Marc: I hope the smoke doesn't smother you too, though of course it might cool the weather down for you a little too. Good luck with it, and the back-to-work vibe!
Hmm, there's some definite tempting going on in that poem and I think it's doing a good job of being persuasive as well! I really like the second verse for it's words about a conscience and how that leads into more suggestions as to why this would be ok.

A victimless crime
"I don't quite get it," said Rob. He sat back down on the couch, and Dr. Steppes handed him a glass of Coke, which he put on the coffee-table, and then a PlayStation controller. His thumb nudged the joystick, and the television screen came to life with a selection of games to choose from. "Why can't I remember past this morning again?"
Dr. Steppes opened her mouth, and then a noise like the siren of a truck reversing ended all attempts at conversation for nearly twenty seconds. When it finally stopped Dr. Steppes took her fingers out of her ears, and Rob shook his head as though trying to get water out of his ears. His hands, seemingly without him noticing, selected a game from the menu using the controller.
"Well," she said. Rob leaned forward a little, his ears still ringing slightly. "I guess I can you tell the truth now. You weren't really here until this morning. We only took you out of the tank then, after we got word that Rob was coming in, badly injured."
"Hang on, I'm Rob. What do you mean? Have I got a brother?"
"No. Well, I suppose there's a sort-of in there really. It's a bit like he's your twin brother, only it's a lot more like you're his set of spare parts."
"What?" Rob's attention was being pulled away from Dr. Steppes to the screen, where the game was loading.
"Rob is... important. He does dangerous things, and he does them well, but there's a lot of... well, danger, in what he does. Sometimes he gets hurt, and replacing him with another person would be both expensive and difficult. So we make sure that we can fix him up when he comes back. That's a lot cheaper."
"Did you kidnap me to harvest my organs?" Rob tore his attention away from the screen and stared in horror at Dr. Steppes.
"No. No, not at all. We grew you to harvest your organs. And any other bits of you that Rob needs replacing."
"What?"
"You're a clone of Rob, Rob. Identically, right down to the genetic level. Any bit of you we can put into Rob's body and it accepts it like it's part of itself. Because it is, really."
"So what," Rob put the controller down, but his gaze was still pulled to the screen, "what you're saying is, you're going to murder me and give me to some other guy?"
"Only if he needs vital bits," said Dr. Steppes. "Otherwise we take the bits from you and keep you here and alive until Rob needs... more bits. It would be wasteful otherwise. And it's not murder. You're all part of Rob really, so it's actually just... surgery."
"So he can just waltz in and take my kidneys, or my eyes, or my brain, and you'll just let him do that?"
Behind Rob's head Rob was being helped into the room. He was limping, badly burned and was missing his left forearm that Dr. Steppes could immediately see.
"Not your brain," she said. "We tried letting you keep Rob's brain, only you kept escaping when we did that. It was a nuisance. Rob, the real Rob, half-smiled at that. Your brain is... well, Rob had a dog, you see..."
There was a pause, and Rob started the game. Then he set the controller down, a puzzled look coming across his face.
"I don't quite get it," he said.

Marc said...

Morganna - heh, with the acrostic I was expecting to have a dog barking at you, keeping you stuck in the tree. I hope the apple was worth it though!

Greg - thanks!

This is a rather fun and fascinating take on the prompt. Poor spare parts Rob, though. I can't help but feel sorry for him - especially if they're only going to take a few unimportant bits and leave him alive until more are needed!

Though I suppose if he's as dog-brained as you're implying at the end there he won't mind all that much...