Monologue: Dang It ! By Guy Fritz

PROLOGUE
“Dang it!”, Fritz yells angrily as he chucks his phone viciously against the wall, causing the floor to be showered in a mosaic of plastic and metal. “The fools cut us off!”
Startled at the sudden outburst, Fritz’s friend and colleague John breaks his eyes away from the dim computer screen lighting up their small office to look at the choleric Fritz. “The heck is your problem?”, John says after a moment of staring speculatively at the fuming man. Fritz’s face crinkles into an expression of pure, unadulterated loathing. His hands balled into fists, Fritz suddenly stands up, and just as suddenly topples his desk over on it’s side, strewing its contents across the floor.
John stares for a moment at the knocked over desk, a dumbfounded

“Hm, well I guess there is a chance, if little, that we can whip something up for those self served jack holes. But what?” John continues, a distant look in his eyes.“We’ve already showed them the tests on lower class species such as cats, dogs, raccoons, rats even. After that we went to monkeys, apes, chimpanzees and many other animals with an intellect closest to a human's. Each test subject proved clearly it was possible to make a perfect digital copy of the living other, their intellect the same, possibly even better! Still, Life tech wanted more, the next level. The question is, what is the next

“Wow!”, Jacob exclaims glancing at the alarm clock at his bedside, “1:00 already? Boy did I sleep in!” The boy groggily shuffled out to bed and opens his door, letting it hit against the wall with a soft thump. As he made his way to the stairs, Jacob noticed his mother walking up the steps, a basket of clothes hugged against her body. “Morning sleepy head, finally decided to wake up?”, mother asks in a cheery tone upon noticing the disgruntled looking Jacob standing in the landing. “Yeah, I forgot to... set my alarm... again”, Jacob states tiredly, rubbing his eye with a boney finger. “I swear with your inability to remember to set that clock of yours you’ll never get anywhere on time.”, mother states, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “Mom”, Jacob replies, “I don’t need to get anywhere on time, it’s a saturday. Don’t sweat it.”
Just then his mother lets out a exasperated moan, then says “Fine, fine. I’ll be down stairs in a minute, breakfast is on the table when ever you’re ready”. The woman finishes her sentence just as she’d escaped into the laundry room, shutting the door with the heel of her