SHIVERS Page #5

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ROLLO:

I know. You're bored already.

Transplants are yesterday's kishkas,

right?

ST. LUC

(shaking his head in

protest)

Did I say anything?

ROLLO:

(excited, waving

specimens of parasites

and diseased organs

around)

Look. You got men, you got parasites

that live in, on, and around men.

Now. Why not breed a parasite that

does something useful? Eh? Why not

breed a parasite capable of taking

over the function of any one of a

bunch of human organs? Why not, for

example, a parasite living in the

human abdominal cavity that plugs

into the circulatory system and

filters the blood like a kidney? If

it takes a little blood for itself,

so what? Be generous! You can afford

it.

He is now in full flight. He leans over St. Luc and begins

to demonstrate what he says by drawing things on St. Luc's

stomach with his fingers. St. Luc can't hide his amusement.

ROLLO:

You put the bug into the body of a

man with a diseased kidney, the bug

attacks the bad kidney, dissolves

it, it's assimilated by the body,

and now you got a perfectly good

parasite where you used to have a

rotten kidney. I know what you're

gonna say. You're gonna say it's

crazy.

ST. LUC

(laughing)

It's crazy.

Rollo throws himself back into his chair and grabs a pickle.

ROLLO:

Right. It's crazy. But here's the

beauty part. Ready?

(leans forward for

emphasis)

Who cares?

ST. LUC

I don't get it.

ROLLO:

You know and I know that Hobbes was

a lousy teacher, eh? Lousy. Dry,

academic, afraid of women, lousy.

But he was always a genius at one

thing -- getting grants. Could he

get grants for crazy projects?

St. Luc is about to say something, but Rollo answers his own

rhetorical question with a flip of the hand, effectively

silencing St. Luc.

ROLLO:

You know who pays the rent here? Eh?

The Northern Hemisphere Organ

Transplant Society. And that's for

something that's supposed to put

them outta business. And they're not

the only ones. We got grant money

coming out of our ears.

He leaps up again and pulls a sheaf of reprints from medical

journals like the Journal of Venereal Disease, etc. He shoves

them under St. Luc's nose, then grabs a jar with a

disintegrating octopus-like creature in it and a sandwich at

the same time. He smacks down the sandwich in front of St.

Luc by mistake, then retrieves it and substitutes the jar

with the specimen.

St. Luc sifts through the papers and glances at the specimen.

As St. Luc looks at the papers, Rollo breathes heavily down

his neck and points out things of interest.

ROLLO:

See? There? You take a little of

this... that's a very rare venereal

disease you get in the nomadic Crinua

people, Northeast Asia and Japan.

(points to a sexy

picture of a Japanese

lady in heat)

Oo. That one's got it bad. They call

it Batinh. That means 'kiss' or

'caress.' When you get it it makes

your lips itchy, ya wanta kiss

everything. I even had it once. I

always get everything at least once

so I know what the patient's talking

about.

(he laughs but he's

serious)

And there... you take a little of

that... that's beautiful, isn't it?

That's Flexipes, the world's only

cephalopod parasite.

(indicating the jar)

That's him right there. Not a very

good specimen. Related to squids and

octopuses. See? He lives in the guts

of whales and big dolphins.

(wiggles a finger at

the specimen)

Ya like 'em big 'n hot 'n wet, don't

ya? Yeah.

He walks away from the desk. His manner is now more subdued

and reflective. It seems as though everything he says provokes

a dozen unspoken thoughts. His depressive phase is beginning.

ROLLO:

We don't do it all here, we send out

to have tricky stuff done... the

cell fusion, enucleation, chromosomal

fission, all that fancy close work.

Rollo sighs heavily. St. Luc gently shoves all the papers

aside.

ST. LUC

Rollo, how come Hobbes killed himself?

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