"The trouble with AM Camels started with the birth of their inventor Ian Wallace, a native of Glasgow, Scotland. William was a mathematical genius, but he was also a shade autistic; some his best friends were Pepsi machines. This was not his fault; he was born to eccentric parents who were so different from each other that Ian's chromosomes threw in the towel somewhere between the third and fourth cell division- when he was still an amoebic blob. Ian Wallace's cousins were Max and Madie Gofigure, but more about that later.

Ian's father was William Wallace, the mathematical prodigy who coined the phrase "quantum personality programming." William practically invented the entire profession of QPP. The irony here is that William, like his father before him, had no perceivable personality. He preferred the hum of a machine motor to the sound of a human voice and he never made eye contact or even seemed to be aware that the earth was populated with other living creatures. He spend his entire career hunched over his mathematical scribblings.

On William's 35th birthday, David Rutherford, the school custodian and William's only friend at Glasgow University (William was not aware of the friendship), slipped a few mind altering herbs into William's afternoon tea and took him to the red light district to celebrate.

Jennet McDonald was a lovely twenty eight year old experienced whore working the Glasgow slums. She felt quite at home with bumbling professorial types who were more interested in the workings of her watch than in the curves and crevices of her body. Jennet was street smart, she had an acid tongue, and she carried a machete on a belt around her slim waist. She charged William four times the basic whore rate and then stole his wallet anyway, just for the sport. You could not describe Jennet as "a sweet young thing." Jennet McDonald was Ian Wallace's mother (William never knew he had a son, Jennet was never sure who Ian's father was, and Ian never bothered to care whether he had parents or not).

This parental mix explains Ian Wallace's obsession with the personality of inanimate objects (his fathers genes) combined with his irreverent disregard for the consequences of his inventions, and also, I should mention his love of knives (his mother's contribution). Since inanimate objects had no personality, Ian applied his dad's QPP formulas to cyborgs, which landed him a job with Animal Motors.

Ian invented the personality modules of AM Camels (they were quickly taken out of production after only three were built). It is well accepted by all who know the intricacies of the software, that these first (and only) AM Camels were the best animal cyborgs ever created. No one ever duplicated the code; the emotional code nesting was especially incomprehensible.

One morning when Ian bent over to tighten the velcro on his shoes, AM Camel Number One kicked Ian's frontal lobe out the back of his skull. That was the real reason the AM Camels were recalled (not that any ever returned; all five disapperaed after Ian was murdered).

I didn't know about AM Camels in the beginning, except that it was a big deal to dad that we owned one. Dallas came from the famous Camelmazoo factory in Michigan. Dad must have told me that a hundred times like it was so important or something. Or maybe he just liked the way "Camelmazoo" rolled off the tongue. Anyway, I found The AM Camel History book in the inmate library when I was looking for my family genealogy. I think dad was wrong about our family tree being chopped down and used for firewood. I think I am descended from kings and great novelists.

There's this one nurse, Tim, she has red silky underwear that I can see when I hide under the bed and look up her shirt. Her name is Nancy Darwin; her great grandfather, 25 times removed, was Charles Darwin, the famous scientist who discovered the cosmic software game called "Change"; although he didn't know about the Unspeakables at the time. Anyway, Nurse Darwin is a pretty fine looking specimen, especially from the underside.

Anyway, like I was saying a few minutes ago, when you do an intake interview there are usually more than two questions and the questions are usually related to reality and make some kind of sense. So, what difference does it make if I prefer one kind of girl to another? Maybe I could give a crap what color their hair is, I never remember anyway. And it's nobody's business what I like and when I like it. That's what I was thinking as the door to Sibyl's office swung closed in my face. From the other side of the closed door I heard her say "It's part of your lesson plan. Pay attention for a change."

When I left the administration building, I headed for room thirteen in the dorm. I had to pass near the parking lot so I figured I would check on Dallas. You should see the looks I get when we trot around. They haven't seen anything in Sumeria with a motor that actually works for about a zillion years, not since before The Collapse. I was afraid somebody might try to steal parts or drive him off. That would be terrible. Dallas is programmed for me and my family (my dad did some tinkering with the code). He might kill somebody who came too close.

What I didn't know was that Dallas was a Mac 10, Urban Cyborg. He was equipped with enough fire power to reduce Sumeria to an ant heap. He had the cyclo-alternating analog to digital, quantum intelligence module (with the digital machetes); only one of three that Ian Wallace created (it was the first of the three Mac 10's that smashed Ian's brains to oatmeal). They weren't trained to kill, however, unless they had no alternative, so it does make you pause to consider why one of them felt it necessary to kill his creator.

This is probably a good time to mention my dreams. Well, they might be dreams or they could be some kind of spacetime uber reality. The closer I got to Sumeria, on my journey to manhood and college, the stranger and more uber real the dreams became.

One evening in the Trinket Jungle on my way to the Holy City of Sumeria, I camped in a used car heap. I got cosy in the back seat of a black Buick Regal. I was real tired so I fell asleep fast.

Now, the Trinket Jungle is not entirely a safe place to be traveling alone. Most people traveled in guarded caravans, on account of the wild virile bastards that survive by eating tourists. I forgot to worry about this when I left home and after a couple days of hard travel it was too late to worry. So, I had this dream on the night I slept in the bombed out used car lot. I dreamed I was deep in slumberland when the virile bastards attacked. There were twelve of them, this I am sure of, because in the morning I found their water supply and severed heads, cut cleanly off just one inch above the shoulders.

They attacked my Buick Regal with terrible savage screaming, from all sides, swinging battle axes and forks. Then their heads went flying all which ways and the blood spurted and the bodies sagged to the ground. Dallas grinned at me, and so did the girl with black holes for eyes.

When I awoke, the girl was gone, there were ten foot high ant heaps all over the place, and huge black ants were eating the severed heads of the virile bastards. The night before there were- I swear- no headless torsos, and no ant lodges.

That was my dream. I wonder what it means?

Judicial Jester here. Mann Glasses overheating. Pulling emergency power from liver chips. This will temporarily undigest your neuro-circuitry. Just look at those dish pan hands! Farfigneutron! Excussssssse Me! Give me that goddamn donut. Moody River, your muddy waters took my baby's life. The 2023 Buick Auto Jumbo comes equipped with Uber steering and Uber Alia. Hey, get your fucking hands off the merchandise!