Q: Let’s clarify for the record just what we’re talking about. You were working on a diet supplement?
A: It was to be a pill. That’s the grail, right? A pill you can pop before bed. A little white pill. That was the idea.
Q: And this pill would be made of…?
A: Compressed dextrose. You know those candy hearts you get on Valentine’s Day? Same stuff. Basically it’s sugar pressed into a mold using pneumatic pressure.
Q: You mean a placebo?
A: Sugar pills are the classic test of the placebo effect—but no, these were fully loaded.
Q: Why a sugar pill, then?
A: Any delivery system would work—why not go with something sweet? Fact is, the mutagenic strain of the hydatid worm developed by Dr. Edgerton was incredibly hardy. They could have been packed into a dextrose pill and shot into space. If a creature with a humanlike digestive system were to find those pills floating out in space a thousand years later and swallow them, those worms would hatch and thrive. Nothing beats a worm in terms of survivability.
Q: So these worms were packed into a candy pill—
A: The eggs were. Freeze-dried, like the Sea Monkeys kids used to buy in the back pages of old G.I. Joe comics. The dormant-state eggs would become larvae and later full-stage hydatids.
Q: And the expectation was that people would be desperate enough to consume these pills to lose weight? That was what Dr. Edgerton and his silent partner–slash–bankroller pharmacy concern expected?
A: People are
Q: What made your method a better option?
A: A beef tapeworm is a great diet aid…
Q: And when a person reaches his target weight?
A: An oral antibiotic flushes out the worm colony in a matter of days. The two-pill solution, we’d bill it. One pill to give you worms, the other to flush them out.
Q: And in between?
A: You’d lose those troublesome pounds.
Q: But the worm you helped Dr. Edgerton develop didn’t act according to plan, did it?
A: I’d say that is somewhat of an understatement.