Finally, the upload was successful and accomplished person.

The clients were less than zealous about the application process. We had to skim the applicants from the zero-case nutjobs. With a device like the teleporter, we got a lot of international attention among the science community. If you could call it that.

One man came looking for an EM drive attachment to the teleporter, supposedly to teleport larger distances and fly along the way. It would have caused a seriously deformed teleported object if it were put into effect. His case was denied.

There was another man who wanted to try teleporting lizards, in order to ascend their abilities to near-human level. Nutjob.

When we skimmed through the applicants, we chose subjects who had plenty of extra cash in case they got stranded somewhere. The first chosen applicant was a man who owned a small pizza joint. He teleported just as shiny as we could have hoped. Ah, those were the days. We teleported our first subjects just eight feet across the science room, in case of a spaghetti incident. That's when the guts don't make it across and they fall on the floor somewhere in-between.

Next, we tested his long-distance durability. The pizza guy was pretty nervous, having to teleport three miles later in the day. We set him up and punched the code in. He looked see-through white in the teleporting basin before we hit the button. He flashed out of existence.

Then, he came to the other teleporter. It was the moment of truth.

"Finally, the upload was a successful and accomplished person," came the radio signal. "He looks devilish in that cap." There were applause all in the control room. "Wait, he's collapsed!"

His blood was completely replaced with pizza sauce.