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.