Todd: The Genius

Looking up from his microscope every minute or so to jot a note on the yellow pad, Fred worked with intense focus.

His lab coat had some grunge stains on it from outside. He’d dropped his keys and, as chaos dictates, they found a way to land under his car.

He was oblivious, though, to being the only dirty thing in the sterile environment.

And then Todd walked in. Todd, The Genius. Todd, The Prodigy. Todd, The Unprofessional Jack Ass Masquerading as a Scientist.

“Fred!” he yelped. “You aughta see this, man. I had some extra silicate and stuff lying around. Was just gonna chuck it. Then,” he clapped, “inspiration! So, I just made some breast implants for one of my mice. It’s too much, really.” He was obviously pleased with himself, gnawing on an apple, which he shouldn’t have in the lab.

Fred ignored the comments, returning to his work. “Todd, I can’t. I’ve got this odd cell structure, here. It’s reproducing compusively…can’t make it stop.

“Oh, like your Mom!” Todd said levelly.

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