Jimmy Xerxes
Walking down a long straight street
A suburb under a reddish sun
In the northern hemisphere of Nearth.
Shadowing him is a shadow
Shadowing that is a Storyboy
Sometimes they hunker down together,
Jimmy and his Storyboy
Under the bushes, in the green caverns
Near the white picket fence
Storyboy whispers to Jimmy
Whispers, always whispering
Whispering by the white picket fence
Jimmy and Storyboy whispering
Jimmy's eyes unfocused
Laughing at no visible stimulus
Heart pounding at no visible stimulus
Nor on storyboy's face,
Mom not having bought a personality mod

Besides, this is a forty year-old storyboy
It was Jimmy's father's, the father
Spaced for accidentally skilling the cook
(Killing him with a skillet)
Thanks to a friend of his father's,
They were able to grow a dadvice module,
All they were legally allowed to do,
Though sometimes families regrew their missing members
At great cost, assisted by any number of shady characters
Then sent them off to Farth to live
Visiting them there occasionally,
There where nobody even cared
Except maybe the local bosses,
Who, if they found out their true identities,
Would lean on em and press em into service
So you'd call up, and he'd be unavailable
And so finally you'd go visit, and find him,
If you did find him, chained by the leg in a jasmine mine
Coughing out his glittering golden guts
And it's not like the bosses couldn't just grow anonymons
Like everyone else, those disgusting faceless things,
All arms...
but probably they were grossed out just like the rest of us.

Frankly, I never understood regrowing the lost member
It's not like an arm or leg
They're consterned to find the role they're in
Constrained to a destiny not their own, they rebel
They rebel all the time
Pfizer makes drugs specifically for that
For suppressing clone independence.
They drug's called...
Oh, I forget. Something clever.