Tag Archives: scientist

1201. Priceless

When Bernice took the photograph of her son she had no idea that in forty years’ time it would be used on the ten dollar bill. It was just an ordinary photo. It was black and white and taken with a Brownie Box Camera. She had taken the film to the pharmacist to get it developed and printed. The rest is history.

When her son’s image first appeared on the ten dollar bill, Bernice had to get a bigger handbag. Not because she had more money. Of course she didn’t have more money. It’s just that she didn’t like to fold the paper money in half. That would be like putting a crease in her son’s photo. Sometimes she even ironed some crumpled bank notes to make them look nice.

Of course after her son’s death his fame spread like wild fire. He was his country’s most famous scientist. In fact his formula

y=m3+xy÷33/ʤɠɫɺɃʨמԒԆ

had not only ousted Einstein’s Theory of Relativity but had made Einstein look like a bumbling idiot.

So when the truth came out that Bernice’s son during his life was the leading light in a pornographic ring, it was a great shock to everyone. People were reluctant to put the image of the famous scientist into their trouser pockets – neither front nor back.

The image on the ten dollar note was changed to a happy scene from Mary Poppins, and the old bank notes were destroyed.

These days any ten dollar bill with the porno-propagator’s image, if found, is priceless.

688. Priscilla makes a baby

688priscilla

Priscilla went to see the genetic physicist. She had already spent hours going through the glossy brochure selecting sperm donors for her proposed baby. It’s not as simple as it seems. In the good old days one would select a football player or a concert pianist or an astronomer to be the father. These days, with genetic engineering, one could select specific genes.

Priscilla had made notes: six foot three, no baldness in the genes, no hairy back, a deep bass voice.

She wanted a competent musician, but not one of those violinist people; nothing namby-pamby; more of a guitarist; they were always popular. And then, she didn’t mind what sport it was provided it wasn’t chess or curling or orienteering or something sissy like that. Rowing would be excellent, or even tennis or mountaineering.

Brain-wise, a good mix between science and the arts would be perfect, as long as one skill didn’t water down the other. A genius was best, but not necessarily a man for all seasons. Speaking of which, no gay genes please. For goodness sake! Oh dear! Goodness me! Her womb wasn’t a charitable organisation.

At last, with the selections made, the genetic physicist’s suggestions argued over, the modifications completed, Priscilla was implanted with one of her own eggs fertilised by… decisions, decisions… donor genes.

Today, her son’s all grown up. He looks remarkably like the genetic physicist and has his mother’s brains.