“Out of here NOW!!” The Corps shouted at the top of his punk ass lungs. We had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar and he didn’t know what to do except shout. I began laughing. Not a “Man, you are so busted!” kinda way but a “You are so fucked!” kinda way. Mrs. Hecksford had no reaction to us being there. Maybe she was too shocked. I hadn’t noticed until now but she had lost all of the weight she gained while she was pregnant. “Out!!!” Tucker and I stayed put. We had questions and this son of a bitch was gonna answer them.
“Who the fuck is Nigel?” I asked. The Corps face conveyed a look of both anger and confusion.
“I have no earthly idea who Nigel is and I do not care!” The Corps shouted. “Just go!” Mrs. Hecksford just stood still. No emotion on her face.
“Oh, hell no!” I shouted. “I just got my ass kicked by a nigga that had no business existing let alone beating my ass! You got some serious explaining to do!”
“I owe you nothing but an early termination,” The Corps barked.
“I think he’s scared,” Tucker said behind me. I looked over and he had walked over to Mrs. Hecksford. He looked at the Corps and smiled as he ran his hand over her breast. She did not move. Hell, she didn’t even blink.
“What the fuck’s going on here?” I asked followed by “Flashlight,” as Tucker jumped out of the way. I flew across the room before the Corps could react and put my fist through Mrs. Hecksford. The Corps gasped, but then so did I. She didn’t even mutter a word. I had a feeling something was up. I pulled my fist from her and it dripped a bright orange liquid onto the carpet. “The fuck...?” The Corps looked like a cat caught with the family parrot in his mouth. “Talk,” I said.
“Rubber Maid,” he whispered. “She don’t look like any Rubber Maid I’ve ever seen,” I said. “Who was that who brought you here?” The Corps asked. “Our answers first,” Tucker said as I watched the fake Mrs. Hecksford shimmy and then fall face
first to the carpet. I looked at the hole that exited her back and could see what looked like human organs and shit, but just brighter.
“Rubber Maids were a part of the project before there was a project,” The Corps began.
“Should I sit down?” I asked. “This seems like it’ll be a long story.” The Corps ignored me and continued.
“Long before the idea of one instead of hundreds of troops being used. Long before the idea of sending drones and robots to prowl the land instead of sending man we conceived of cloning. By taking one volunteer and multiplying them billions of dollars, if not trillions, could be saved. But there was one problem. Men cannot be cloned. For whatever reason something in a man’s physiological structure rejects the means of cloning.”
“Kinda like the same way a woman’s bodies reject the project,” Tucker said. The Corps nodded. “When you play God you become the Devil.” As Tucker said that I had a brief glimpse of those demons or whatever we saw with Hollister. My asshole clamped shut tighter than a virgin on her wedding night.
“Mrs. Hecksford was the first candidate for the Rubber Maid project that was successful,” The Corps continued. Every few moments he eyed the “dead” Mrs. Hecksford on the floor. Who knows what he was planning to do with that thing? Or what he already did. “Nine of them were created. This one,” he said while motioning to the body, “was almost perfect. With a few more tests it would have been 100% functional.” He let out a heavy sigh.
“So why was she naked?” Tucker asked. “How did you appear out of thin air?” The Corps asked. “No, you first,” I said. “Tit for tat, gentlemen,” The Corps replied. “I think you’ve had enough tit for one night,” Tucker said. We high-fived each other withoutlooking at one another. “I was...testing her,” The Corps muttered. Tucker stifled a laugh. “Silence, you fool. I am
dedicated to this project more than you could ever hope to be.” “Ooh, someone’s testy,” I said. “Appears we ruined his date.” “Now,” The Corps said ignoring me. “Who brought you back?” “We have more questions,” Tucker said.
“And some news for you,” I added. “It appears our Aussie friends have a little project of their own,” Tucker said. “Impossible,” The Corps spat. “No one is...” “This bastard could hit us from a distance,” I said. “So could a bullet,” The Corps said as he stared me right in the eyes. “I don’t think you understand,” Tucker said. “He threw a punch from over ten feet away and it
connected.” The Corps was about to speak but Tucker cut him off. “Say ‘impossible’ again and I swear to a God that I now know exists that I will fry you where you sit.” The Corps sat silently.
“If backwater ass countries like Australia could make something like that imagine what places like Europe, Asia, and Russia are doing,” I said aloud. “It appears that in this arms race the octopus are multiplying.” The Corps tried to speak but couldn’t. “And before you ask, the guy that brought us back was an old friend. He’s kinda unpredictable.”
“Yeah,” Tucker said. “You could even say he’s ‘uncontrollable.’“
We left The Corps alone with his thoughts, his fears, and his blow up doll. We had better things to do.
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