No. That wouldn't be any fun

The sun was peeking through the black construction-paper lined windows of the gym when Rick woke up on the gym's concrete floor.

As before, his skin was coated with a sheen of dried blood, his mouth tasted of puke and something electric, and his vision swam when he pulled him to his feet. He'd been lying in a puddle of what could be a combination of puke, blood and sweat... and who knew what else and he felt like it. Still, he was alive which he hadn't been sure would happen. He tried to remember if anyone had actually died of taking the alpha version of bio-DNA and realized he didn't know. Several people had died during the process but the doctors and spin-doctors had written them up as coincidence rather than something directly related. Now, he wasn't so sure.

He tottered over to the janitor's closet, found a bucket and mop, and went to work on the mess he'd made.

By the time he'd finished cleaning up, he was feeling vaguely human so he got thinking about marketing.

Clearly the key marketing event was the party. If the party was successful, word would get around among the elite of North Dallas and suburbs. If the party was boring, word would similarly get around. The problem was, Rick had never been much of a partier. Which had been one of the many problems in his marriage. Jan had loved to party, loved to go out dancing 'til all hours, loved to socialize with strangers, drink too much and get inappropriately affectionate, and generally have a good time.

He called her.

"Hi Rick. What's up?"

"Don't know if you've heard about the new women-only gym on G."

"Uh, no. That's not a great area."

"Oh, it's completely boho. (Rick wasn't sure what that meant, exactly, but he was sure it was a marketing buzzword that would work with Jan).

"Really."

"Completely. We're having a party tonight. Women only, of course. I wonder if you and Eliza would like to come. We're targeting the ultra-elite of North Dallas, so you'll want to glam it up."

"At a gym?"

"No weightlifting. Dancing, alcohol, maybe some free massage. Eight o'clock."

"We'll be there."

"Thanks. Full glam, remember."

"You want glam, I can do glam."