Further down the corridor, one of the clones was emerging naked from one of the tubes, blinking eagerly at the bright new world he had been programmed to serve.

The visitor finally caught up the to General who had paused to take in the magificent sight of a fresh addition to his clone army.

"Will ya lookit that" he quietly sighed. "Ain't he just sumthin'?"

The visitor was unimpressed. "Now about the directives..."

"And git a look at this" continued the General, oblivious to the visitors concerns. "This was my idea, just a lil sumthin' to help us keep track of the boys. Ya have to admit they can be kinda tricky to tell apart. Ah mean, jus' lookit Jim-Bob and Bobby-Joe" he waved towards the ever-present two guards who had been quietly following them throughout the tour. "Can you tell 'em apart without those lil' name tags?"

"Well, no. I'm afraid not. Now about..."

"So lookit what I had done to the process" the General stepped forward and turned the willing new bubba-boy around, pointing at a large dark mark of his big, round, beefy butt.

"A bar-code! Just like you git down at all them thar' big city stores" he stepped back, beaming with obvious pleasure at his own ingenuity "Now we can keep track of 'em all, even down to which Aggie's man-juice we used to grow each of 'em from" and with a loud slap on the rump he dismissed his newest recruit who was efficiently guided away down the corridor by another clone in a white lab coat.

The visitor wrinkled his nose in diapproval of the General's clearly inappropriate behaviour, adding it to the growing list of questions and criticisms he was mentally compiling.

"O'course, I only give real proper names to a select few, like Jim-Bob and Bobby-Joe here. Most of them good 'ol dough boys just have their lil' ol' numbers." he chuckled to himself and strode off. The visitor said nothing, just adding one more item to his growing list of complaints.