I'm going to preface this. This was written as a joke. You shouldn't take this as something to emulate. Having someone write something in the same vein would be embarrassing, and I'd probably end up taking the story down. So please, as you read this, remember, it's not even CLOSE to possibly being canon.
Thomas lazed at the security desk. Fifteen minutes until his shift ended. Fifteen minutes until he could go get a drink, hit on that cute girl from maintenance. She looked like she sure knew her way around a wrench, and Thomas had a "tool" of his own for her to handl-
"Uh, Pardon me. Can you tell me where the research labs are?"
Thomas' musings were interrupted by the sound of his genitalia retracting inside his body from sheer horror.
Floating in front of him, approximately four feet above the ground, was a fetus. A high pitched voice spoke again.
"Normally I would know where it is, but I'm a new transfer and your site is set up strangely. My name is Doctor Abortion."
"Doctor Abortion. As you may imagine, my name is centered around my unusual appearance. Now, if you'll direct me to the research labs, I will be out of your hair."
Thomas wordlessly pointed. The fetus bobbed at him, and floated off.
Today, Thomas decided, was a good day to hide. Under his bed.
In the hallways, people stopped and stared. A female lab assistant screamed, and fainted. The fetus bobbing its way along the corridors took no notice. A tune was hummed, though, for the life of them, they couldn't understand how.
The abortion who floated like a butterfly and gave nightmares like an elder god paused in front of a door. A knock was heard, and boggled many a researcher.
Doctor Gerald poked his head out and stared.
Thomas, hiding under his bed, shrank deeper into the darkness at the sound of a piercing scream.
"But, but, but, but!"
"You transferred right after I started to show. Not trying to run on me, were you?"
"No! I didn't know! No one told me!"
"Probably because of the fear of me being captured. Most one-night-stand babies aren't this valuable."
"So, you're sure it's me?"
"Yes, I am. They ran all sorts of tests on me. Still are, actually."
"So, uh, what is the, uh…?"
"He's a healthy little boy."
"What are we going to name it?"
"Oh, sticking around are we? Well, I was thinking…Claude. After me."