old story idea no. 2

Legendary Blood Rustlers of the Vallejo BioGen Plant
You could live longer, stronger, bigger and faster but you had to get the right batch of blood. Slimey and The General found frozen bags deep in the cryo storage warehouses on Mare island in the north east section that the Navy claimed to own but really rented space to the gene police feds. Just cause your a janitor does'nt mean your stupid, especially if you took the job on pourpose after failing out of Stanford. They thought they could be like Steve Jobs and skip school, but bioengineering does'nt allow such slackeresque success and so after going broke after investing student loan money in a melanin enhancer that did not work at all they resorted to petty crime to keep the server farm in their rented shitbox warehouse going. The plan was to use passwords bought from an oldschool silicon valley hacker, now crankster addict to access the experimental database at BioGen identify dna enhanced blood that was tested but not being used and "borrow" it while they were supposed to be following a germ killer robot through the dark frozen tumnnels of the cryo warehouse. The whole thing was tricky, very tricky but if they pulled it off they could sell it for plenty o' EFT Electronic Funds Transfer to a not so picky gene fence in El Cerrito. "Whose gonna play gueina pig tonight generalissimo'." loudly whispered Slimey to the general as they rode the hydrofoil ferry from Heyward to Vallejo. The General looked over at his friend in the seat next to him and observed him with a critical eye, wondering if his crime partners appearance would give them away. Slimey got his name from the lavender pomade he insisted on wearing big gobs of in his jet black hair swept back fom his high aztec forehead, but it was all the peircings that got him noticed. His eyebrows , nose , lips and hairline were lumpy with clear crystal "zeppelin' style peircings that streched his facial skin tightly, not your average janitor look these days. At least his jump suit was plain enough silver metallic green though it was. If only he was'nt 5 foot two to boot. "You sound hyped up did you use some of that go fast from Marcos? You know you cant inject the dna bags with meth in your system ,taints the final product, Jesus Fucking Christ! Whats with you that shits bathtub crank by the way I know I can smell it a mile away." 'Just enough to write some code for that sideways helix matrix last night whats it to you I carried last weeek," snarled Slimey. "Maybe you did but you brought out the wrong shit and it took two weeks to get rid of those four extra breasts, it was supposed to be a Grow Tall variant you'd be 6ft 2 by now if you paid attention you fake ass criminal" "Shit, wait'll you try to identify those bags on the fly and then inject in the pisser just hoping it's not a Parkinsons batch, my hands shook for days after wards"
The general grunted assent and popped up out his seat heading for the bathroom to complete his dusguise. He did'nt really need it with his shaved head and red ahired goatee, he looked like 90 percent of the other Janitorial engineers at BioGen, except he wasn't a racist meth smoking bastard like they were. At 6 ft 190 lbs of gene enhanced muscle and neuro boost electronics in his head the general fit in almost too well at BioGen. Sometimes the counter intel software at the plant scanned your profile even harder if it seemed too perfect. you'd hear about it, soon.