Larry was a very unhappy liver cell. He hated his job. He hated dealing with all of the muck and the waste of the other cells. He would have preferred to have been a brain cell, so he could help make the body eat things with less waste and make the jobs of liver cells more livable. A heart cell would have been nice, too, since there was a lot of prestige that went along with that. A gland would have been nicer too, since he could actually make something besides bile. Most of all, he wanted to be a white blood cell, since they got to travel and were greatly respected by all other cells. Alcohol, metabolic wastes, and even the occasional formaldehyde found their way to Larry's station and he hated it.

Larry was an unusual liver cell. None of the others that he know of had even decided on a gender, let alone a name. He could not remember what made him decide to take an identity of his own, but he knew he was not a normal liver cell. All of the others barely talked at all because they were so engrossed in their work. When they did talk in those rare brakes from work, it was inevitably about work.

"Hey did you see that methyl molecule that came through here?"

"Yep. It was a big one."

"How do you think it got in here?"

"Who knows?"

The other cells weren't much better. Since Larry's station was located near a capillary, he actually got to see other cells. The red blood cells just hummed idiotically to a rhythm dictated by the heart. They had no minds, no urge to better themselves, and didn't do anything but float with the currents. The white cells simply would not talk to him. Macrophage, the big stupid brutes that the were, continual asked "Friend or Foe?" of every cell they met. The others blatantly ignored Larry. He was apparently below their station. He would watch them sometimes, carrying on the war against invaders and he longed to hear their stories. Arrogant bastards. Even the capillary cells had a haughtiness about them that made Larry sick. He was glad he was near a blood vessel, though. If he was located deep in the liver he feared that he may go mad. He could still overhear conversations, though, and what he heard made him ache for adventure.

One day during a break, he decided to try to engage another liver cell in conversation.

"Don't you just want to get out and see the body?" he asked.

The liver cell paused. "Well, how would we do our work?"

"We wouldn't. We'd ditch work and travel."

"Wouldn't the other cells be mad at us?"

"They'd just make a couple of new ones. They'd never miss us!"

The other cell seemed to be becoming distressed with the notion. Then a lactic acid molecule appeared. "Oh boy! Work! I love my work!"

Larry gave up. He was determined to get out of this rut even if it killed him. With great force, he began pushing at the vessel wall.

"What are you doing?" the barrier cell shrieked.

"Move!" Larry bellowed. With all of the strength he could muster, he punched an opening through the vessel wall and entered the blood stream. It felt glorious to be free. He flowed along with the mindless, humming red blood cells, through the heart, and to places where a liver cell had never been before.

It was at that moment that Larry decided to rebel. He decided that he would make replicas of himself and together, he and his army would rule the body. They would go wherever they wished ad subjugate all of the other cells. It was his destiny.

He was so busy that he had not noticed a macrophage sneaking up on him.

"Friend or foe?" it demanded.

Larry was startled. "Friend!" he stammered.

Liver cells are notoriously bad liars.

COPYRIGHT 1998 by Jason Hall