Am I The Asshole For Breaking Every Rule of Scientific Ethics and A Few Other Things?

…Namely manipulating and brainwashing a grieving mother and nuking God?

I’m well aware that may seem like a lot and even “problematic” right off the bat to those of you without superior brain power. But please, allow me to explain.

Many years ago I had a very sweet kitten. Her name was Stacy and she had the softest white fur and tiny paws and she loved to play. She was so incredible dear to me. But, tragically, Stacy met an unfortunate end and died, leaving me all alone.

Any lesser man would have drowned in his sorrow. But not I! Like any rational person, I refused to accept Stacy’s demise. I would not allow her to die. I decided to make a new Stacy with the power of SCIENCE, that way I would never have to grieve!

…Unfortunately, I was not able to recreate Stacy. I could make cats that resembled her, but none who truly embodied all that she was. They were nothing more than IMPOSTERS— wretched doppelgängers wearing the face of my beloved cat.

But I didn’t give up. I continued to create these Stacy clones, eventually making thousands of them. I’d poke them and prod them with needles and inject them with all sorts of things, convinced that if I found the right formula, surely I could bring her back.

I even began to pursue other cat related science. You know… just in case it would somehow help me resurrect Stacy. I sewed cat heads to dog bodies and made horrifying cat-human hybrids. All very advanced stuff!

But that was doing me no good, and eventually I decided I needed an assistant. To help me continue my studies. So I dug up some fat lady’s body and brought her back from the dead, telling her she was going to help me.

You may be asking— “if you could bring her back, why didn’t you just resurrect Stacy?” But it’s not so simple. Stacy’s soul could not be returned to her body. My hypothesis is that she’s in heaven, permanently separated from me, while the obese woman’s soul was ripe for the plucking out of hell. She went there for locking her toddler in a closet or something until he died. I don’t know. I only did the bare minimum research. You know, like any good scientist!

To make sure she helped me, I even smacked her with another one of my genius inventions: the Persuasion Device. It’s supposed to rewire a person’s brain and make them listen to anything the user says. Not entirely sure it worked, but she tested it for me later and she managed to brainwash one of the giant mutant sharks that live in the sewers long enough that it devoured a tyrant demigod with a massive bloody organ-filled hemorrhoid, so I’m considering that another successful invention.

And, anyways, she DID help me. I suppose even if she wasn’t brainwashed she had nothing better to do now that she could no longer put the fear of god into her bald little toddler.

And, initially, things went well. She helped me advance the field of CAT SCIENCE. She did a perfectly adequate job of inbreeding them and teaching them how to decapitate other cats with big axes and what-have-you. But then, like a FOOL, she got her cats to kill two Sumerian gods (unrelated to the demigod with a massive bloody hemorrhoid) and in response the denizens of my lab REBELLED! They attacked me! Drove me from my home! My precious Stacies and other terrible abominations! THAT’S how they repaid me for giving them life!

Yes, I am certain their rebellion was in response to the fat lady killing two Sumerian gods. It had nothing to do with me keeping them in cages or placing jumper cables on their nuts and on their nipples.

So, obviously, since this was my FOOLISH ZOMBIE ASSISTANT’S FAULT, I expected her to fix it to me. I told her to go back in time and make it so that my experiments never rebelled against me.

Unfortunately, time travel is a bit finicky, and she wasn’t able to do EVEN THAT for me. Instead she went back and forward in time and watched a caveman eat a baby and killed Hitler a second time. All VERY interesting stuff, but not at all pertinent to my goals!

Thankfully, however, something good DID come of all of that fooling around. You see… I had a theory: that if you were to go far enough back or forward in time you’d arrive in a time before or after the universe’s existence. A time when all there was is heaven.

And, of course, like the genius I am, I was correct! My incompetent, bumbling, child-abusing assistant successfully managed to run into and even attack God!

But God, like the ASSHOLE HE IS, just recovered. Her cats couldn’t kill him! Not even despite all of the CAT SCIENCE I did! Can you believe it!?

This was a HUGE problem, because when you think about it all of this is God’s fault. HE’S the one who took Stacy from me. Like some kind of MONSTER! I knew I had to make him pay.

So I built a nuke! Powered by the blood and essence of the embodiment of chaos and that hemorrhoid-having demigod who keeps coming up for some reason. And I told my fat lady assistant to go and kill God with it.

Which she went to do… except when it was time to detonate the nuke, she started to get cold feet about it! Asking “Don’t you think this is a bit blasphemous?” And “What’s going to happen after we kill God?”

What an IMBECILE! Only good things, obviously! I reminded her that God killed her son. I mean… I know SHE’S the one who abused him until he killed himself or whatever, but GOD is the one who invented death, so when you think about it he’s actually the one to blame.

Plus, need I remind you that God TOOK AWAY STACY? He needed to go.

And, thankfully, I installed a remote way to activate the nuke. So I was able to detonate it with or without her compliance.

Success!

However, now that I’ve killed god, there’s some asshole named Steven yelling at me. He’s telling me that I “Totally fcuked up the timeline” (how did he even say that with his mouth?) and that I need to pay. But I don’t see what I did wrong. I was grieving in a completely normal way. So what if I wanted to sew a few cats together human centipede style? Sue me! And it’s not as if Steven can actually punish me for-

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