Death in the Produce Aisle; Genetically Modified Truths

He stood in the produce aisle debating what to eat for dinner that night. Several vegetables caught his eye and brought up visions of culinary delights. The crookneck squash looked particularly delectable with its bright glossy yellow skin. Next to that a bin of ears of corn. The ears were large and firm. They also appeared perfectly edible. The produce person was sorting through the broccoli and arranging fresh bunches. He politely asked the store employee, “are these vegetables genetically modified?”. “I’m really not sure.” answered the broccoli sorter. ‘Hmmm’ the man thought. ‘Maybe I’ll give them a try.’

He tore a plastic bag off the dispenser and loaded it with six ears of corn. Three for a dollar he thought, better get six. As far as the squash he loaded up the bag with what he guessed was two pounds of golden goodness. Curiously as he turned to the scale he noticed a man dressed in camouflage was eyeing him from behind the green beans. ‘That’s strange,’ he thought, ‘what’s he looking at me for?’ He turned and walked up to the next aisle which was filled with condiments including vinegar and salad dressing.

Reaching down to grab a jar of his favorite mayonnaise he felt a strange sensation tearing through his left quadricep. He stumbled back and slammed into the shelf behind him. Several jars of mustard fell on his head and shoulders. He looked up to see the man in camouflage standing over him with a glock pistol. It was aimed squarely at his forehead. “What did I do?” he managed to spit out despite the pain. “Why you were going to buy those genetically engineered vegetables you stupid son of a bitch”, growled the vigilante. “I am going to kill you quick, they would’ve killed you slow!”

‘Great,’ he thought to himself, ‘I am going to be killed by a frikking gun happy lunatic over a dosing of roundup.’ ‘Talk about a genetically modified vegetable, who modified this lunatic’s brain?’ Crack, crack the pistol exhorted. Soon his brains and blood were slowly leaking into the spilled mustard. Mixing into a bizarre dressing on the grocery store floor. “Clean up in aisle five!” the gun happy man proclaimed. “Call the police!” screamed an elderly man.

Five minutes later the police arrived. After the shell shock across the country there were five cruisers pulled up to the front of the store in three minutes flat. Seven policemen surrounded the glock wielding murderer demanding he drop his weapon immediately. Curiously the man complied and gently lowered his shiny pistol to the floor. An officer approached him and began to recite his Miranda rights. When he was finished the trembling man let himself be handcuffed and was led away without a struggle.

“Why did you do it?” the sergeant said as he carefully put the man in the back of the patrol car? “We are all going to die anyway, don’t you see?,” the murderer whispered, “It doesn’t matter anyway, I was just helping him out. If my bullet hadn’t got him he would’ve gotten cancer from those vegetables. We are all being lied to every day. Lies, lies and more lies. Don’t you see it? Nobody gives a damn anymore!” The sergeant closed the car door when the man had finished. ‘How many more of these Goddamn lunatics have guns?’ the sergeant thought to himself.

“I’m not upset that you lied to me, I’m upset that from now on, I can’t believe you” — Friedrich Nietzsche

Get off the cell phone and drive! — Jake Shween

3 thoughts on “Death in the Produce Aisle; Genetically Modified Truths

  1. Most do not care and are misinformed. However, there are those that care, buy we need those some to be many to exact the change that our country so desperately needs.

  2. Dear Writer,
    The farmer, a law abiding citizen, is given a nice subsidy for spraying his farm land with chemicals genetically designed by the government to produce more food for our ever growing, overweight population.
    The vigilante, a law abiding citizen, was cliniclally sane when he first purchased his gun. After years of eating genetically altered corn, he started to hear the “popping” in his sleep and it soon crept into his day. He decided he would take his lawful gun and help rid the world from their soon to be demise.
    Who is right? Who is wrong? Who is to say?
    Another perfectly painted picture, Dear Writer!! Keep ’em coming!! And grow your own!!!!

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