Meat puppet

Blood-spurting meat puppets did herky-jerky hulas as the lethal barrage of multipurpose rounds struck their targets with pinpoint accuracy and devastating results.

He never really woke again, not in a form I could say good-bye to; he became simply a meat puppet in an immense bed, a pistil in a rose.

I eat his galactic dream hole; I plow him into a meat-puppet stupor, shoot deep inside his five-star ass, and suck out the whipped cream for dessert till his rocket shoots stars.

This takes on serious implications if the meat puppet itself can be spammed — personality could be erased, augmented, juxtaposed, stolen or hidden behind — and presumably there would be attempts to make such activities illegal.

He, too, was a meat puppet. Unable to make any decision without imagined repercussions from above, he chose to make none and instead passed his decision onto the next guy up the food chain.

He much preferred direct control, Caliban as meat puppet who would do his bidding unquestioned .

One of many unfortunate side effects of his years as a meat-puppet soldier, being thrown into whatever corporate war needed warm bodies instead of tactical nukes […]

I played what Penn likes to refer to as “the meat puppet.” It’s a term he picked up from television cameramen, who invented it as a description of some of the beautiful but vacant people who recite the local news.

I fancy that I can factor in the Times' slant, but it would be better if news didn't even pretend to be objective. I'd like the meat puppet on the nightly news to say, "Today Perot, the big-eared psychotic, unveiled his so-called economic plant."

The meat puppet who usually reads the morning news had been replaced by a woman who had scaly blue skin and close-cropped green hair.