The Boss holds a syringe. He says to Dilbert, "Drop your trousers and turn around. I need a DNA sample." Dilbert bends over looking angry. As draws Dilbert's blood, the Boss says, "We're scanning for any fatal genetic problems that could hurt productivity." Dilbert sits at his desk. The Boss enters holding the test results and says, "Uh . . . we decided to move your project deadline up a week." Dilbert's hair stands up straight.