Clone Wars: Me, Meet Me

If I could clone myself, how would I split up the responsibilities, you ask? Well, one would be in charge of making pancakes. While I and my giant clone army TAKE OVER THE WOOOOORRRLD!

Just kidding, how would that even work? Would that work? How much would that cost? Are we talking custom-made or mass production? And hasn’t sci-fi taught us that cloning is a very bad idea anyway? What if it ends like Blade Runner? Let me count the ways in which things can go not as planned:

Option 1 (a): You clone my cells. I end up with a baby that, once grown up, will look like me but be an entirely different person. And a deranged one at that if I have to raise her.

Option 1 (b): You clone my cells. I end up with a grown person that looks like me but is mentally only a few hours old and needs tons of work and care until she can walk around without smashing into things. Or throw tantrums in the supermarket, which, considering the outside age, will be quite embarrassing. And if things go from bad to worse, it’s the whole Frankenstein situation all over again.

Option 2 (a): I have a functioning adult clone. This person will not like being a mere copy made to do my bidding. We’ll try to get along but in a final symbolic grasp for individual identity the bitch will kill me and take my place.

Option 2 (b): I have a functioning adult clone. Unfortunately, it is the EVIL CLONE OF EVILNESS and turns into a bond villain, who I then have to stop from taking over the world, because that’s my gig.

Option 2 (c): I have one or more functioning adult clones. We make a sitcom, because we’re all hilarious.

Option 3: The whole cloning thing doesn’t really work like that. Instead, I can just make more of myself at will, kinda like DC’s Multiplex, all of which will at the end of the day go back to wherever in my head they came from. We start a dance team. Kidding, it will be even more awesome. One will be cooking, one will be hoovering, one will make a coffee run, one will read the library books I still have lying around. Or at least that’s how I imagine it, because the reality would be, we’d all be fighting over who has to do what, because if my clones are anything like me, it will be an endless “I don’t wannaaaaa”.

But let’s pretend for a moment that all my clone dreams will come true. One day I open the door and there’s me, all like “Hey! I’m your clone! I look like you, talk like you, and think like you. Can I crash on your couch now that I have escaped the clone lab?”

And I’m like, sure.

Hilarity ensues. Why divide work if you can just do it together? We’ll take more shifts at work so we can afford the amount of chocolate we’ll now need. We’ll make pancakes until Boyfriend pukes because he hates pancakes. (“You’re thinking what I’m thinking?” – “Put M&Ms in the pancakes?” – “You know me so well.”) Actually, Boyfriend will have to sleep on the couch because my clone moves around in her sleep just as much as I do. We’ll make the greatest jokes, we’ll labour over our writing together, we’ll take turns with uni courses and proof-read each other’s papers. We get double the cleaning done and call each other pussies during fitness challenges. We’ll do face masks and hair masks and style each other and do each other’s make up and take selfies together, like an endless girl’s night. I’ll finally have someone to cuddle with for hours on end! With the added bonus of boobs! Long live my boobs, now there’s four of ’em!

I mean, we’d also be both incredibly lazy, all like “I think we should get up, it’s noon.” – “Yeah, guess we should get up.” Then chorus: “You get up first.” And we’d also be like, we have absolutely nothing to wear. And our periods would sync up and we’d wail, “I need cake so bad!” – “OMG, me toooo!” – “We don’t have cake!” – “What are we gonna dooo?” – “This is agony!”

Of course should it ever get out that I have a clone my surroundings wouldn’t take well to the news that there’s now two of me. I think my mother would faint. My dad and my aunt would be like, great, now you can help with your great-aunt and you can help with your grandmother! Boyfriend would bitch and moan because now there’s two of me and both of us just so happen to have headaches at, hm, unfortunate times. My friends would be like, stop being embarrassing, when me and my clone start slinging nerdy innuendos at full blast. And then there’d be the FBI and the X-Files people and we’d have a whole host of big ol’ problems resulting in fast-paced chase scenes that make a smashing film. And then we’d both end up in the clone lab again, but we’d be hella rich from selling the movie rights for our story. Then we’d wait a bit and start a clone revolt, get the human rights people involved, have messy court battles, and found our own state somewhere.

Then we’d have to stop the one evil clone and her breakaway faction from taking revenge on the humans, because there’s always at least one evil clone. Then she’d be successful and exterminate all the humans and the only ones still alive would be my clones. And it shall be called Rise of the Clones. A thousand years later the planet would be populated entirely by women who look exactly like me and the arriving aliens would be very, very confused. And this part we call Empire of the Clones. Or does Clone Empire sound better?

What, that wouldn’t be how it would go down? That’s all impossible? My dear person, don’t you ever read anything? And anyway… it’d make a smashing film.

Be sure to see the third part of this amazing trilogy, Legacy of the Clones. Coming soon to a theatre near you.


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