The rash started on her belly. It didn't itch, exactly. She rubbed at it every now and then, absent-mindedly, and each night, she checked it in the mirror to see if it was getting worse.
"Do you think this needs a doctor?" she asked Brent one day in the lab. She tugged up her blouse halfway. The subcutaneous lace-work made a distinct outline on her skin. "It looks like a kitten."
Brent's eyes widened. "How does it feel?" he asked carefully. "Does it hurt?"
"No. It feels... funny."
"My God," Brent whispered. "They've escaped containment."
"Who?"
"The cats. The LOLcats."
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