“Well,” snapped Professor Hojo, “does it talk yet?”
His assistant cringed.
“No,” he said. “We are still having problems with its tongue. And lips.”
Hojo spun round with a lecturing expression.
“There is little point,” he started, “in creating a talking dogman that can’t talk.”
His assistant nodded.
“Get back to work,” dismissed the professor.
His assistant turned back to look at the dogman pressing its face against the glass. Putting the head of a dog on the body of a man had been fairly easy. And people and queued to see it, eagerly pressing up against the glass for a glimpse of the man with a dog’s head. Keenly watching it walk around, sniffing the ground or eating its breakfast.
Hojo got bored with that once all the information had been collected. Then the number of visitors dropped. So the next plan was hatched – The Great Talking Dogman. And that’s where it seemed to stay, a plan. The first problem had been the dog’s brain, it didn’t have the necessary parts. So dog head attached, dog brain removed and human brain inserted. There were a few initial errors but the procedure had been successful.
It was then that they discovered how speech was actually produced. Hojo had been terribly excited by the discovery and spend hours documenting it with childlike glee. But, again, once there was nothing more to discover, it was back to getting it to talk. With a sign the assistant leaned forward and said,