The warehouse smelled bad. No wonder, considering the piles of skin, flesh, torn scales and organs wrapped in fresh leather laying across the floor. Yet in the middle of it all the flesh-merger worked undisturbed by all this. Occasionally he would reach into a pile and take a required bit of tissue to add to his creation, as needed. This one had taken longer than expected due to the calibrations needed, but he was confident his next attempt of electrification would bring it to wonderful life. He worried for a moment of the unpredictable resultant mixture instincts it would have, but he shrugged it off in his scientific curiosity.