"Someone mentioned brain slurry? Let's make it a chef. Are we intending for this... person... to be televised? Let's make it a female and call her... heck, I don't know, call her Bob," comes a suggestion from farther down the room.
"Hm, a chef? What would that entail? Enhanced sense of smell? Improved intelligence? Great manual dexterity? Would be possible. And female. But the name Bob... hm, will have to consider that. It's mundane, yet comically out-of-place. Perhaps advisable. More on that later. Also, we aren't in charge for how the people are utilized by buyers - we can only provide guidelines."
As the boardroom ruminates on this suggestion, the honorable Mr. N chimes in.
"Uh, we should do something that's never been done before... make it a third gender! Yeah, and make it smart, but not too smart, just a little worse than me in every way. Make it just competent enough so we get bonuses, then we can sell upgrades later for even more money."
"Okay, that's another vote for intelligence, but not too much. That works, okay. And third gender... what would that entail? It's a bit difficult to wrap my head around. Could be an interesting gimmick to roll with. Also, we can't upgrade engineered people, at least not on our end of the industry."
There is a crack and the sound of someone slumping on the table. Carl looks at the source of the noise.
"Oh dear, Mr. L, are you okay?"
Mr. L merely bleeds on the table as a response.
"Now, I know that impulse control is a rather limited commodity these days, but could whoever did that step up? I wish to give them a reward for their proactivity!"