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Herbert West and the No Good Very Hetero Assistant

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Dan came home and found Herbert rummaging through the Re-Frigerator, stacking a bunch of vaguely non-edible things on top of a slice of bread. One of the things looked like a severed hand. Dan decided not to say anything.

He went to the living room, because the one constant in this chaotic life was that there was always a beautiful (if distressed) lady friend to be found in the living room. Instead he found Herbert settled in a rocking chair, glasses perched in a grandmotherly fashion on the end of his nose, sewing bat's wings onto the sides of a girl's decapitated head. Dan decided it was better not to ask.

He went down to the basement laboratory--maybe he could have a nap on the slab?--but there he found Herbert playing table tennis with Herbert. Instead of a ping-pong ball they were using what appeared to be a glass eyeball.

This time Dan was too irritated to front. "What the hell are you doing, Herb?"

"That is a very good question, Dan," Herb said. He gave the glass eye one last whack and set down his paddle. Herbert set down his and instead held up a severed head, with which he caught the glass eye and left it for safe-keeping. "What I was doing at the moment you asked was playing ping-pong, but I suspect you mean in a more general sense. What I have done today, Daniel, is cloned myself. Look behind you, won't you, Dan?"

Dan glanced behind him. The Herberts from the kitchen and living room respectively were on their way down the stairs.

"You see there asexual Herbert," Herb said, waving to the one with the sandwich. "And beside him is pansexual Herbert."

Pansexual Herbert tossed the severed head of the girl in the air. It excitedly flapped its wings and bumped its way up the stairs.

"You've met bisexual Herbert," Herb said, exchanging polite nods with the third Herbert. "And of course I am plain simple gay Herbert. Do you know what we don't have, Dan?"

Dan looked around unhappily. "Enough bathroom space."

"No, Dan. What we don't have is straight Herbert. Because being straight is boring."

Gay Herbert stepped close, uncomfortably close, and squinted up at Dan.

"Stop being boring, Dan," he said, and slapped him. "Also I need bus fare to get to New Jersey for more severed hands."

Dan patted his pockets. "I don't have any cash on me," he said.

And Herbert slapped him again.