“If my clone weren’t dead, or rather not in nonexistence, he would have probably killed me by now.”

“It’s my birthday, who could be calling me? Probably my clone, wondering why he hasn’t been born yet.”

“If somebody wanted me dead, I’d try to convince them to wait 25 years, for technology to arrive, so they can go kill my clone. It’s a win-win for me and them, but not for my other me.”

“He won’t be as funny as a mountain—he’ll be hill-arious. He is my clone, and I hope he kills me for this terrible pun.”

“If somebody kills me, at least I won’t be accused of murder. Well, assuming all my clones have alibis.”

“If you had a clone, and you weren’t wearing perfume and your clone was, I’d automatically think your clone was more attractive.”

“Making money for my clones, now that’s what I call self-enrichment. Having all my clones working for me, working for free, and enriching me, now that’s what I call social progress. Ah, but that’s life, no?”