Bug shook the can. Not loudly, but enough to get Rod's attention. Rod had been working at the bright monitor in the dark room for a couple of hours and it was probably time for another feeding. Rod groaned as he stood from his seat and lumbered over to flick on the lights, illuminating the laboratory with the sickly pale light that could only be from the cheapest of flourescent bulbs.
"Okay, Bug, I'm coming."
They called him Bug, but he was no insect. He lived in a canister labeled Radioactive Waste, but he was neither radioactive nor waste. A ruse. Bug had begun life as a microbe: small, insignificant, short lived. The later is what they were hoping to alter. They were successful but the side effects weren't very appealing - Bug had... what? Mutated? Evolved? They weren't exaclty sure and hadn't put a label on it yet. Changed was the word for it: Bug had changed. That was for sure.
Rod wandered over to the food bin and removed a bit with his long, silver fork. That'd be enough for this late at night. He removed the canister's lid and smiled. Bug wasn't cute, but he was like an only child to Rod - all he had in that department.
"Here you go, fella. Now try to get some rest."
"Thanks, Rod."
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