“God damn it! God fucking damn it! ANOTHER DNA verified paternity test? Fuck my ass to Sunday, how the fuck do we deal with this?” Niel Stine, Chief Analyst for the United Nations C.M.L.T. Foundation, was screaming into the C.M.L.T. Foundation Public Service Discord channel. “Are you fucking kidding me? We really have to keep profiling this mother-daughter-sister-fucker as a net fucking positive?”
Stine was bitching about serial murderer and rapist Adrien Dandie, who was swiftly approaching an overwhelmingly healthy paternity-to-murdernity ratio by the C.M.L.T Foundation metrics. Human Twitter was already blowing the fuck up over Dandie’s C.M.L.T. WikiProlifieration Profile showing a bright green Human Race Proliferation Ratio of 5.6, and now it was creeping up towards 7.0 where, god forbid, they’d have to add a little picture of a smiley face climaxing or whatever. The man had really raped a whole lot of ladies (after he’d murdered their men, in many cases), and since proliferation potential was considered the most positive possible trait in a potential offspring, there wasn’t really any way to get an abortion approved, legally speaking. Quite a few unexpectedly expecting mothers came out feeling grateful for the trade-up from the now-dead deadbeats they’d been dating (with their deadbeat ratios starting at 0.0 and not likely to go anywhere fast), after they’d recovered from the shock.
Dandie was still on a rampage. Murder was murder, but he was untouchable. Half of the Human Twitter posts were cheering him on towards a top score. Ever since the legal systems had switched over to the Progeny basis, your personal Net Population Effect was the only number that mattered, and it was public knowledge. Murder was murder, but what the fuck could you do? Dandie was a fucking alpha, according to the numbers. He had sired ten kids, killed his wife, bought out his sentence with a ratio hit, and started a cold, calculated, long-term campaign of gruesome rapes and random murders that kept his kid-count on the fucking rise, outpacing the murders by a long shot. He was the most prolific bad guy since the Foundation had started tracking badness, but nobody could call him bad, legally. He had a ratio of 5.6 for fuck’s sake, and it kept going up.
Back in the C.M.L.T. Foundation Public Service Discord channel, Stine was still seething. He hadn’t had any kids yet, hadn’t met the right person yet–but with a ratio that looked like a surprised rabbit, he wasn’t going to meet anyone worthwhile any time soon.