McBouncy and He Who Brings The Coffee are discussing thon fella Hugh and his Chicken Run.
“I’m never buying cheap chicken again!” declares McBouncy, who is appalled at the cruel and filthy living conditions experienced by such poultry. “I was going to go into the Spar for a chicken today, but then I realised that they don’t do free range. And if I go to the butcher’s how do I know that I’m really getting free range? So now I have to go to the supermarket.”
He Who Brings The Coffee is unperturbed. “If that’s the way you feel about it, you’re going to have to change absolutely everything about your eating habits,” he remarks casually. “Nothing’s good for you any more, and everything’s been altered and doctored and tweaked to make it more cost-efficient and completely unnatural.”
“Well… not everything,” says McBouncy dubiously.
“Oh, yes,” replies HWBTC, getting warmed up, “it’s not about healthy animals nowadays. Get them reared and get them killed with as little expense as possible. Take milk, for example.”
Zed and I glance up from the job pages of the Ballymena Guardian with mild interest.
“Those cows out there in the fields,” explains HWBTC, “they’re not even real cows!”
The Guardian is pushed to the side and HWBTC has our undivided attention, a situation that pleases him greatly. We demand that he elaborates on this Fake Cow Theory. “Well, they’ve all been interfered with,” he says conspiratorially. Seeing our shocked expressions, he hastily adds, “I mean – you know, doctored… altered… changed from a natural cow into a sort of – of – super milk machine.”
“So what you’re saying,” I say carefully, “is that we are now dealing with a species of genetically modified cows?”
“Exactly,” says HWBTC, nodding. “Like vegetables, only the next level. And vegetables are another thing,” he adds to McBouncy, “you should really consider getting your own vegetable patch.”
McBouncy looks exhausted already. “It all sounds like an awful lot of hard work,” she says dejectedly, in a sad little voice. “And I couldn’t look after a vegetable garden. Besides, what would I use to fertilise it? Manure’s no use if there aren’t even any real cows any more.”
Another topical lunchtime discussion in the workplace.
Filed under: animal cruelty, boss, chickens, conversations, decisions, food, friends, genetically modified cows, humour, science, TV
I will be growing my own veg starting this year. No mutant bovines will be allowed in my garden as they can’t climb the fence.
I am picturing a high-security vegetable garden with a high fence and some sort of anti-cow patrol man, while all around you the GM cows circle in a trance-like manner, much like zombies only with udders that contain 200 litres of drug-induced ‘milk’.