Genetic Modification.
Fucken dense topic. Some say it’s a perversion of nature. The dawn of the apocalypse. A punt on science with scorched earth consequences. Plagues, famines, Super viruses, who knows… Others say it’s essential to preserve the human race. 22 years ago, a professor at Surfcore University saw the eminent death of power surfing. To ensure the preservation of the rail-game genome, he covertly began ‘splicing da helix’ to create the first test-tube core-lord. Mixed in the petrie dish, the plump-thigh chromosome of Mal Maninga, DNA molecules from Bon Scott’s boof-mullet, two-squirts of Occy’s socially-inept seed and the nocturnal endurance stem-cells harvested from Chris Davidson at the 1999 ASP banquet. Fertilised in the amniotic sack of a red kangaroo and intravenously fed servo pies.
He grew rapidly. A low-performance upper body and high-performance lower body. Calves that could pull commodore wagon out of axle-deep mud. Sure, there are flaws in the prototype, no comprehension of financial management, an insatiable thirst for domestic lagers and a scrotum that can not be contained in modern wetsuits. But the end result is a new generation of advanced GMO core lords. Robbie Rickard , A marvel of core science, riding his ‘real’ dad’s 6’5 Dahlberg. Documented by the mystery man they call "SURFCORE'.
Hopefully, Rob will one day lay eggs and a new generation of core spawn will carry on his genetic legacy.
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