This article belongs to In Search of Laughs! column.

OK, I admit it I'm a clone! And my girlfriend is a robot! Get over it!
I know there's some silly Primordial Directive against me revealing
this, but again, get over it! I'm telling you now because mankind is at
a vital crossroads in it's development, and Hey Earthlings: You're blowing it!

Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their planet.
It's also the time for all good clones (yes, there are both kinds),
good robots and most of all, good women, to come to the aid of their
home world!

As for me, some background: My original was killed
in 1969 by his big brother, in some bizarre ventriloquist experiment
gone bad! Our father, an Air Force rep, had previously submitted the
requisite samples, and I was basically…on file! Getting brother off the
hook, they commissioned and infiltrated me. My family was told it was a
knee operation. Years later, I was told the truth. I'm really a
recycled and converted pleasure unit from a covert and zany CIA
experiment gone bad! My family was told it was my Naval career! So,
have you got the rhythm of this thing now?

My whole sub-program
was intended to fool the Russian cyber-guys, cuz their counterpart
units could not laugh, much less make anyone else, or a crowd of folks
laugh, like my kind can. When the Cold War ended, a batch load of units
like me were retired into civilian life. The comedy boom of the
eighties? That's my Guys! My family was told that's when I was in

My girlfriend…she's a CCRC Model 5! (Wink-wink,
nudge-nudge.) She's my sidekick on this, I call her little Sara Tonin.
She calls me Endorphin Man. We've decided to help humankind save
themselves from themselves. We know we risk being vaporized by some
nutty Vegans for helping you. But, that's our cross to bear. It's a
dangerous job, but someone has to do it.

The next great
inventions on Earth will be matter transfer, faster than light space
travel, and the compassion pill. The first, (beam me up, Scotty) is in
development now. The second will get the Vulcans to notice us. Then, we
get to join the Federation of Planets! But, we only get to join if we
finally demonstrate enough compassion for our fellow humans. Now, you
and I both know that ain't gonna happen any time soon! Why,
we'd rather kiss a neo-con! Anticipating this problem, I am skipping to
the next step. We, on Earth, in the next ten years, will invent the
Compassion PILL! If we can't feel compassion for everybody here, we can
certainly invent a pill that induces the desired effect!

the "smoking gun" of our violation of the Primordial Directive. This
alone is enough to get us before Interplanetary Interference Tribunal.
If you want to get the active ingredients of that ever-elusive
compassion: just add one part EBO, to an equal part of ordinary PLAC.
Mix formula and then reverse it. As soon as you can distribute it
worldwide, humans will be able to fake compassion and then gain
entrance to The Galactic UN. Let's focus on this. It's in all our best
interests! So, Endorphin Man and his trusty sidekick: Sara Tonin make
this sacrifice for you!

So, please stop the killing, please
help your fellow man, and love one another! Only then, will humans,
clones, mutants, and robots be able to live together in peace. Come on;
let's give it a shot. It COULD work! What have we got to lose? Or,
maybe this is just another Help Everybody experiment gone bad. If it
will help, I am willing to be a subject in the experiment! It's a
consistent trend in my life. I told you right at the start of this
crazy idea: I'm a clone! So, get over it!