A huge oak desk takes up most of Dot’s office. “You know what Freud would say about big desks?” “He’d say sometimes a desk is just a desk.”
“Yeah sometimes.” I grab a magazine from a side table and take a seat. Dot says “Regi, you can’t assist in the autopsy of a family member.”
Regi starts to protest but Dot holds up his hand. “No arguments. You’ll have to wait here.” Once he’s gone Regi says “I’m not waiting here.”
“While you’re reading ‘Highlights for Children’ who knows what they’re doing to my father? Don’t you need to secure the chain of custody?”
I put down my magazine. “It’s’Boy’s Life’ and the chain is secure.” “Not secure enough. Where were you when A hid Dad’s body in a freezer?”
“I was in the freezer with him.” “Then he shows up as an autopsy cadaver in the Carribean.” “I was there too. I was the one who found him.”
“I was in that freezer too.” “I know.” “I was also in the Carribean.” “I know.” Regi heads for the door. “Are you coming?” “I don’t know.”
Regi takes off. By the time I follow she is nowhere in sight. I duck under a scaffolding to enter the surgery. That turns out to be wrong.
I’m in the Body Parts R Us Genetics Museum. It’s different. Gone are the exhibits of genetic abnormalities, birth defects and DNA misfires.
In place of human grotesques and monstrosities are chrome and plastic prosthetics, biomechanical organ analogues and synthetic integuments.
“What the…?” The augmented reality computer has been replaced by a robotic docent. It says “Please complete your question.” “Where am I?”
“This is the Evolution Museum.” “Last time I was here this was dedicated to human genetics.” “Please state your query in question form.”
That makes me stop and think. “Last time I was here this was dedicated to human genetics?” “That is a statement with a rising inflection.”
“Not really a question. Please restate.” says the robot. My last visit to this museum gave me nightmares. This one is giving me a headache.
“This museum used to be devoted to human genetics studies. Now it’s full of artificial spare parts and computers. Why did they change it?”
The robot replies “Human genetics is no longer significant.” “What is significant now?” “Evolution.” “Evolution?” “Again, not a question.”
“Isn’t the genetics exhibit about evolution?” “Human evolution. We’re past that.” “Who’s we?” “We ARE the Body Parts R Us Evolution Museum.”
I look around. I see no double helix animation projections or the prerequisite “air-breathing fish progressing to upright hominid” diorama.
“Your Evolution Museum appears to be missing some parts.” “Do you have a question?” This animated answering machine is getting on my nerves.
I walk up and grab the robot docent by its metal collar. “From now on I ask the questions!” “Get your damn dirty paws off of me!” “Huh?”
I slap the robot across the face, hurting my hand in the process. “Ow! What’s the big idea?” “Wetware evolution can only go so far.” “What?”
(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)