How to tell if Your Spouse is a Replicant

Written by  //  June 25, 2012  //  Cinematical, The Theatre  //  12 Comments

Blade Runner Turns 30…


While we here on the grounds of  Donnybrook Manor are often loathe to do so, we are sometimes called upon to perform public service announcements to aid the general populace in leading their workaday, humdrum lives so they may better toil in obscurity. In honor of the 30th anniversary of the film Blade Runner, we have been asked to speak on the dreadful matter of Replicants.

Ordinarily we find these “announcements” to be utterly mundane, but in this case we were happy to take up the cause, due to the nature of the task in question. You see, it was not long ago that we ourselves were infiltrated by a pair of abhorrent Replicants that had returned to Earth. They took on the guise of professors of existential interior design. We were utterly fooled and dreadfully sorry when we had to “retire” them.

In addition, I personally had two wives that revealed themselves to be Replicants and I was forced to disassemble them and dispose of them forthwith. Those were tragic times and I could only find solace in the arms of my many foreign mistresses, the maidens at the local brothels, and the numbing agents to be found in a bottle of Pernod.

To ensure that no other person suffers as I have, they have requested that I – as resident expert – inform you – the uncouth masses – of how to identify if the person you have chosen to spend your life with is a Replicant:

  • They believe that Modern Mechanics is pornography and should not be sold to minors.
  • They refuse to punish the indentured servants and become inconsolably morose when you do.
  • They insist on talking about “rights” for the under-classes and could possibly even champion causes to that effect no matter the humiliation it brings upon your illustrious household.
  • They make even your WASP friends seem warm, friendly, outgoing, and amorous.
  • Whenever you discuss who your sexual “free pass” is, they continually choose Cylons.
  • You find yourself in need of a new spouse every four years.
  • They become increasingly agitated at any mention of actor Jon Voight or biotechnologist Nick Kampff.
  • Upon being shot at point blank range with a Harper’s Ferry .58 Caliber Flintlock dueling pistol they become annoyed rather than – as would be expected – dead.
  • During art heists, they are able to scale blank walls without aid.
  • When you attempt to playfully slap them or push them down the stairs to show your affection, they thrash you soundly.
  • They mock your gymnastics gold medal winning child mercilessly and delight in displaying their superior agility.
  • They can play chess in their head. I jape; naturally we can all do that.
  • On more than one occasion you have found them pleasuring themselves to pictures of C-3P0.

We hope this has aided you in determining if your spouse, family member, or significant other is, indeed, a Replicant. As always, we advise prudence in dealing with these matters. Before taking a chainsaw to your spouse, you will want to determine beyond a shadow of a doubt that they are a Replicant. This can be accomplished by a simple Voight-Kampff test.

Conversely, as the foremost authority on Replicants kept on staff, I would be happy to come to your home and – for a nominal fee – declare under oath that they were certainly a Replicant and you were well within your rights as a Bona Fide Human to push them into the industrial wood chipper.

About the Author

M. W. Byrne

M. W. Byrne would describe himself as a gentleman criminal. Born to the infamous nouveau riche Günther family, much of his adult life has been spent in and out of the department of corrections for a wide array of infractions from petty theft, mayhem, arson, and impersonating a member of the clergy.

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12 Comments on "How to tell if Your Spouse is a Replicant"

  1. Alistair Blake Arabella
    Alistair Blake Arabella June 25, 2012 at 10:35 am · Reply

    That last pic of K-Stew – priceless.

  2. Sid June 26, 2012 at 6:22 pm · Reply

    Where the fuck were you for my last few Cardiac Arrests with these Emotionally-Unavailable Super-Babes Willing to Stoop to My Level? The last one, *was* indeed, a damnable android; “The Yellow Machine”, she was christened. If you find yourself near Angel City, America; keep an eye out. A Most Cunning Beauty.
    The one I married turned out just to be an Insect Goddess; so we sort of can play nice now; if upon seeing her I have a hearty supply of iris pollen or the scat of a lynx as an offering.

    This Replicant-Fear is partially what has made me swear off of Amorous Encounters entirely. I just marked One Year of Purity, as a matter of fact… I demand some Big Deal be made of this.

    • Alistair Blake Arabella
      Alistair Blake Arabella June 26, 2012 at 7:20 pm · Reply

      Note to Self: Begin Planning Sid’s Purity Parade…

    • Tiberius Quincy Goopers June 26, 2012 at 7:32 pm · Reply

      As always I will hire the numerous ladies of the night that are required for all of Sid’s “Purity” celebrations.

      • Alistair Blake Arabella
        Alistair Blake Arabella June 28, 2012 at 12:14 pm · Reply

        With your connections, Goopers, that’s probably for the best – lord knows we don’t want Mumsy Arabella breaking her restraining order to get at Sid yet again.

  3. Sid June 28, 2012 at 4:19 pm · Reply

    That Order of Restraint stands for another 492 days, according to my solicitors; Jacksons, Monk & Rowe – and I will thank “Mumsy” to take heed of it. Doubly so, as my nerves are a complete shambles after a recent encounter with a brigade of celebutante hipster babes who – once I was deftly and powerlessly made captive near the rear rail of the gin palace – made demand of my Virtue; forthwith – in the most unladylike ways; nattering and squawking over one another, pawing at my finery.

    Luckily, over the last decade, my pancreas has put the barman’s nephew through art academy and he – with help of an urchin in his employ who collects the used crockery from tables for half-a-crown and a stinking blood sausage as recompense – was able to wrangle the gaggle with some great effort and lurid promises and afford me some measure of escape.
    Only one damsel landed an errant kiss to my brow as I beat a retreat to my rooms; for this she was gifted a return *bise* from the cudgel kept in my overcoat pocket; loosing a few ivories which clattered across the bar in a spray of her dainty mouth’s fiery blood.
    I sighed at the brazenness and cynicism she’d shown to incite the imposition in the first instance; outright savagery, placing a kiss on a person unknown to you, there, at the pub.

    In any event, I of course do not count this attack upon my innocence as a transgression on my part; maintaining a Perfect Record for One Year *Sans* Amorous Encounters. Now, only six or seven to go — I can’t fathom sticking around for much longer than that in this ever-more-unspeakable Uncivilization.

    But yes – the Whores are a non-negotiable part of any solid Affair et Soiree; and my Purity Celebrations could scarcely be thought of complete without them. A fine call, as ever.

    • Alistair Blake Arabella
      Alistair Blake Arabella June 29, 2012 at 7:25 am · Reply

      Best Reply Ever.
      And there’s no need to remind me of the days, good sir – the calendar she eyes greedily every morning as she makes Consuela cross off the days is reminder enough that she’ll be camped in front of your quarters again eventually.
      Perhaps we could arrange a convenient “bump-in” with Goopers one day in the halls of the Manse… every man should have at least one stalker experience in their lifetime, and my mother is the gift that keeps on giving.

      • Sid June 29, 2012 at 7:32 am · Reply

        I’m into it.

      • Tiberius Quincy Goopers June 29, 2012 at 7:45 am · Reply

        A single stalking experience is hardly worth the time and trouble. Until you reach double digits you have not been properly stalked.

        • Sid June 29, 2012 at 8:39 am · Reply

          He’s right. I have had the good fortune to have breached the double-digit stalking threshold/perimeter about a decade ago. It’s utterly flattering and just Fun.

        • Alistair Blake Arabella
          Alistair Blake Arabella July 2, 2012 at 1:26 pm · Reply

          So true – I think unless you’ve spent more than one night hiding in the darkness of your own house lest the “fan” waiting in your bushes realizes you are in fact home, you just haven’t lived.

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