Enzymes!
Biochemist Ludger VanHal stared moodily at his reflection in the glass. It stared just as moodily back. His proteins separated slowly by gel chromatography. Mr. Van Helsing stood in his place. Success! Now he had at last achieved an auto-catalytic reaction ... in short, he was free of all moral restraint. His plans lined up quickly - by feeding his clone a slurry of enzyme-rich stews and meat pies, and over-stimulating its pineal gland with the DNA derived macro-molecules . I'm rich and unattractive and completely unfettered, he thought smugly and straightened his adverbs.
Clone-Helsing took his first steps in the fog-ridden moonlight. He tripped over a toy fire engine, croaking in annoyance. He stood and straightened his head. [crack] Some fluid leaked out and stained his tie and cummerbund, but he smoothed them out. Deciding to have them laundered, he ranged on over the hills into town. A quick swig of Clonase fired him up. He weaved down Main Street, croaking left and right at the shoppers who moved, startled and freaked, out from under his antagonistic gaze. Ludger ran behind him with a sack lunch, munching on Cheetos and Fritos and protein bars for Helsing. Hurling a chip in the air, he caught it in his nostril as he cartwheeled into the mall. Orange Julius employees frappéed out the back, leaving a "Help Wanted" sign fluttering to the floor.
Helsing stepped up to the quavering cornered manager, sign in hand, best interview smile on. Ludger, proud papa, readied himself for his first enzyme shake.
