Victor sat in front of his computer, oddly surrounded by beakers, bottles of formaldehyde, and other sterile scientific accoutrements lining shelves on the walls. One especially captivating wall for him was home to bottles of tiny mice, frogs and other creatures floating in clear liquids.
Gordon looked over Victor’s shoulder, as he stared wide-eyed in discovery at the screen. “But boss,” Gordon pleaded. “It wouldn’t be perfect!”
“It would!” Victor came back, eagerly. “It would have no claws and would behave perfectly! This, Gordon, is how I can create the perfect cat! Can you imagine how much people would pay for such a thing? No more scratched furniture! No more wondering where your cat is as it runs rampant in the neighborhood!”
Gordon sighed. “I don’t know,” he said. “It seems like it would be imperfect in its perfection: Nobody would feel like it’s perfect because it’s simply not real—not enough to be authentic.”