Writing.Com: Developmental Issues

Sergi Romanoff headed over to his favorite workbench in the lab. It was the one with all the funny little games adorning its pock-marked and chemically stained surface.

He fiddled with his Mobius band, twiddled with the metallic Cat's Cradle and piddled about with the Magic Eye picture for good measure, even though he could never see the dolphins.

He felt let down.

The General Leader In Charge of the Planet was his boss, and a rather good boss at that. Ever since Sergi had been kidnapped he had lived a life of luxury. A great Pension Plan, full Medical and Dental (including family) and a handsome incentive scheme. All combined with employee friendly working conditions and access to a, seemingly, never ending research grant. However, it wasn't all fun and games at the Lair.

Acme had seemed really pleased with the way that Sergi's latest project had been progressing, but had told him not to bother ironing out one of the glitches inherent in the design of the 'Terra-former 3000' (the glitch that utterly destroyed any other living thing in sight before developing the substructures needed to support human life).

He sighed at the magic eye picture that still refused to give up it's secrets and thought back to their earlier conversation;

"Leave the glitch, Sergi. It's perfect - simply perfect! I think somebody may be in line for Employee of the Month."

"I appreciate that, sire - "

" - Acme, please."

" - Acme. It's just that it is quite a big glitch, you know? All life as we know it extinguished in minutes. If it should fall into the wrong hands?..."

Acme stood and walked carefully around to the back of Sergi's chair placing his cool palms, soothingly, onto the Russian's shoulders.

"Hey there, fella! Turn that frown upside down. You're not paid enough to do all that worrying." He added a playful ruffle to the worried mans head.

"I know, sire. You are right. It's just that Yorgi and I were watching Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, last night and well, I kinda got all goose-pimply and freaked."

"Hey, I love that one!" enthused Acme. "Weird, but when it comes to sequels being better than the originals you only have to think of 'Aliens'," he paused, becoming serious once more. "Here's how I see it: move on. Go develop a vaccine for AIDS to take your mind off things. Leave the Big Picture to me. I know exactly what to do with the 'Planet Crusher 3000' - "

" - 'Terra-former 3000' - "

" - Exactly."

He did feel better once he had voiced his concerns and returned to the lab. Maybe it was the Red Alert klaxon. Maybe it was that nice Mr Bonde trying to blow up the missile silo and wrestling Minty the Shark. Maybe it was a lot of things, but Sergi sure felt he could use a break.

Putting the Magic Eye picture down he turned and checked the Petri dishes that Steve had been using to help brew his own beer. There it was! Right in front of him; a cure for the common cold.

Oh.

Oh, dear.

How unfortunate that a radio-active frog seemed to have spawned in it. The side effects on a human consuming it would be terrible. At the very least the test subject would be plagued with incredible super human strengths coupled with the ability to become amphibious, swim well and jump immense distances.

What would the boss say?