Issue 4xx: GMOs Are Our Foes!

After an increase in the number of children born with blue or green tinted skin, a group of concerned parents styling themselves as natural eaters have demanded that the government put restrictions of Genetically Modified Organism for human consumption.

THE DEBATE

1. “They're poisoning our children!” screams spokesman of Pink Parents Petition, Natalie Weston, “My little Timmy hasn't left the house for two straight months because he's afraid of
the way people are going to treat him. We need to crack down on these money-hungry business owners so that our children don't have to suffer the shame of having unnaturally colored skin! Obviously, we should be given a tax cut as a form of an apology for the horrific treatment we've been given, and have the corporate fat cats arrested!”

2. “I have a dream that our children will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the amount of money they spend on our products!” says well-groomed George Wallstreetson, CEO of Hard Cash Inc. “So what if the food is making them blue or green? Hell, we can probably make them florescent pink and employ them in some of the clubs we own. And wait until you see the new product we have in the works: singing potatoes! Who wouldn't want one, or two...or seven hundred? And I'm sure that a little government support would let us put these out on the market faster, if you know what I mean.”

3. “You're endorsing what now!?” exclaims traditional farmer Martha Mbasogo. “Sure, today it's adaptations to survive in hostile climates—but tomorrow! Tomorrow it's cacodemonic tomatoes with claws and fangs! Ban genetically modified foods entirely!”

4. “You're not seeing the real benefits here,” says a mysterious man in a black trench coat approaching your seat, “We could...edit the structure of these vegetables and fruits, then export them to other nations. But what did we do the exported greens? Well, let's just say the nations we are exporting them to will be much easier to conquer.”

5. A bespectacled poindexter weasels his way to the front of the crowd. “Of course the fruits of our labour are imperfect; we're operating on mere pennies a day,” he says as he pats his pocket protector reassuringly, “If our laboratories had more funding we could produce super-foods! Just think of the opportunities, not only would our populace never go hungry again, we could create an army of sapient cabbages to rule the world!” He is escorted away by security, laughing maniacally.