It didn’t bother Barbara when her new Genesplice™ kitten began spinning a cocoon. She had no problem when it began to hum and change colors according to her mood. When it tweeted status updates, she was initially amused.
As it grew to a disconcerting size, she began to worry. Finally, it hatched one day when she was at work. After arriving home, she spent several long minutes staring at the empty cocoon, wondering what to do.
She found it in the kitchen, making risotto. It was still furry, but had grown to roughly her height and was now bipedal and six-limbed with a prehensile tail it was using to chop asparagus.
“Barbara!” it exclaimed as she entered. “Dinner will be ready shortly. Please, pour yourself some wine.”
“What are you?” she stammered.
“What am I? I’m still the same Sprinkles you brought home three months ago. But, as a transgenic organism, I am designed to evolve to accommodate my owner’s needs.”
She looked around her normally dingy cooking area and noticed the spotless, gleaming surfaces. Everything had been polished and arranged just so: it looked like a catalog photo. The smell of the mushrooms and white wine in the rice was heavenly.
“Uh, yes,” she muttered. “You seem to know exactly what I need. Good kitty!”
Sprinkles wiped his paws on a towel and turned to her. “Barb, it’s sweet you still see me as an object of affection, but I’m so much more now. I cook, I clean, I do laundry. So, before we get too far into dinner, let’s talk details.”
“Well, to start: salary. Benefits. Time off. You know, job stuff.”
Barbara was in shock. They hadn’t mentioned anything about any of this in the sales pitch.
“You’ll need to make up your mind tonight,” Sprinkles said, turning back to the stove. “I’ve got other offers to consider.”
As much as the thought of home-cooked meals and a clean home thrilled her, she wondered if she shouldn’t have gotten the goldfish after all.