In 1980, Chris McClain attempted to create the perfect children. He would nourish and raise them to be different people, then put them on a reality montrer where they would be tortured and abused in front of millions of poeple. Many critized the idea, saying that no human being in the world could "make children".
Chris, not knowing of the effects, fed each child's fetus a drug that would make them perfect; he also rushed the project so it would be done faster.
When all 24 of the children were finally 'born' it was made clear that Chris had failed his task.
The children looked "chibi-like" and were only 4'3". To make matters worse, they couldn't do any tasks but walking and didn't even know their own names.
Embarassed and disappointed, after two weeks of trying to raise them, Chris abondoned the children, giving each of them nothing but a name and a lifetime supply of food.
It is morning. The sun rises, drying the dew on the ground. A little house is seen just around the corner, suivant to the meadow.
All 24 children slept, their tiny bodies pressed against each other. Smelling the nourriture around them, one of them awakened excitedly.
"Wow! Am I in heaven?" He looked around. He walked over to the mirror one of the other boys was holding and saw himself.
"Is this me? Cool! Why am I so fat though?"
He looked at his nametag. "Owen? What's an Owen? Is that my name? COOL!"
Owen shook one of the other boys. "What..?"
The smaller boy stood. "What's going on? Who are you?"
"My name's Owen! At least that's what this nametag says. Hey, you've got one too!"
"Oh...'Noah', huh. Meh. Works for me.."
After all of the children discovered themselves and each other, one plus thing needed to be decided: where did they come from? Where were their parents?
Chris, not knowing of the effects, fed each child's fetus a drug that would make them perfect; he also rushed the project so it would be done faster.
When all 24 of the children were finally 'born' it was made clear that Chris had failed his task.
The children looked "chibi-like" and were only 4'3". To make matters worse, they couldn't do any tasks but walking and didn't even know their own names.
Embarassed and disappointed, after two weeks of trying to raise them, Chris abondoned the children, giving each of them nothing but a name and a lifetime supply of food.
It is morning. The sun rises, drying the dew on the ground. A little house is seen just around the corner, suivant to the meadow.
All 24 children slept, their tiny bodies pressed against each other. Smelling the nourriture around them, one of them awakened excitedly.
"Wow! Am I in heaven?" He looked around. He walked over to the mirror one of the other boys was holding and saw himself.
"Is this me? Cool! Why am I so fat though?"
He looked at his nametag. "Owen? What's an Owen? Is that my name? COOL!"
Owen shook one of the other boys. "What..?"
The smaller boy stood. "What's going on? Who are you?"
"My name's Owen! At least that's what this nametag says. Hey, you've got one too!"
"Oh...'Noah', huh. Meh. Works for me.."
After all of the children discovered themselves and each other, one plus thing needed to be decided: where did they come from? Where were their parents?
