Janna watched this dubious stunt and decided to stick to business. "How about patents?"
"No one ever inspects Russian gene labs," said Veruschka with a glittery wink. "We Russians are the great world innovators in black market wetware. Our fetal stem cell research, especially rich and good. Plenty of fetus meat in Russia, cheap and easy, all you need! Nothing ever gets patented. To patent is to teach stupid people to copy!"
"Well, do you have a local lab facility?" pressed Janna.
"I have better," said Veruschka, nuzzling her Pumpti. "I have pumptose. The super enzyme of exponential autocatalysis!"
"'Pumptose,' huh? And that means?" prompted Janna.
"It means the faster it grows, the faster it grows!"
Janna finally reached out and delicately touched the Pumpti. Its surface wasn't wet after all, just shiny like super-slick plastic. But -- a pet? It seemed more like something little boys would buy to gross-out their sisters. "It's not exactly cuddly," said Janna.
"Just wait till you have your own Pumpti," said Veruschka with a knowing smile.
"But where's the soft hair and big eyes? That thing's got all the shelf appeal of a scabby knee!"
"It's nice to nibble a scab," said Veruschka softly. She cradled her Pumpti, leaned in to sniff it, then showed her strong teeth and nipped off a bit of it.
"God, Veruschka," said Janna, putting down her coffee.
"Your own Pumpti," said Veruschka, smacking, "you are loving him like pretty new shoes. But so much closer and personal! Because Pumpti is you, and you are Pumpti."
Janna sat in wonderment. Then, deep within her soul, a magic casement opened. "Here's how we'll work it!" she exclaimed. "We give away Pumpti pets almost free. We'll make our money selling rip-off Pumpti-care products and accessories!"
Veruschka nodded, eyes shining. "If we're business partners now, can you find me a place to sleep?"