Apologies in advance if this is not the proper format for writing a story; I’m rather new to the topic. Nevertheless, I will endeavor to amuse you with a tale that’s been spinning around in my head.
Thomas Sowell was resting with a cool drink on the veranda of his home. His faithful attendant Neager stood by awaiting any request the old man could have. The old man took in the scenery. The private farm was large considering it was only tended by two men. The land had been carefully selected, to provide total isolation. What little Sowell planted was more for his amusement, than profit. Time had shown that his skill with fauna hybridization had translated somewhat into the realm of flora.
In one corner of the land, a strand of trees produced heavy, pumpkin-like fruit. In another, fuzzy, brown cacti flourished. It was a garden of bizarrerie, but it was controlled. It flourished. Thomas smiled at the accomplishment. It had taken a lot of work, but the real reward was the restored sense of control it brought him. The universe was balanced. His scientific mind was thrilled.
His mood began to spoil as his gaze fell onto something that did not belong here.
An infestation.
He had retired in comfort from a certain company’s bioengineering division. He lived out his remaining years quietly but regretfully. The creatures he had helped bring into the world had been a mistake. He could see that clearly now. “Sentient but irresponsible. And stupid.” He said to no one in particular.
Neager, of course, understood his master’s sentiments and heard nothing. With a grunt, Sowell put down his drink, replacing it with a battered old pipe he pulled from his coat. Neager wordlessly lit up the pipe and the old man puffed on it intensely, considering how to best deal with the issue.
“Mr. Neager” Thomas Sowell said gesturing with his pipe. A herd of small, colorful creatures was moving slowly through the tall foliage at the outskirts of his land. Trying, unsuccessfully to be unnoticed. The ate away a trail through the purple-jasmine grass and the insatiable horde would not be sated. He knew that all too well.
Neager nodded. “Fluffies sir. A whole feral pack. Quite a large one at that.” He refrained from making suggestions at this point, knowing how much of a sore spot they were on his master’s conscience. Personally, he would have exterminated them immediately and without mercy, knowing how destructive they were. However, his respect for the old man made him defer to him. The old man’s next words surprised him however.
“This could be another chance.” Sowell said with a penitent gaze upon the miserable creatures. “Another chance Sir?” Neager asked confused. The old man nodded and rubbed his temples. “One last chance at forgiveness…redemption.” Now the attendant understood.
Thomas Sowell had disappeared into obscurity, ashamed of the sin of helping to create these monstrosities. He had profited immensely, but the world had paid the price.
“One more chance for me…and for them.” Neager was skeptical at these words, it was so unlike the cold calculating man he had served, but he was reassured by his next words.
“Think of it as an experiment.” They both smiled in agreement.