"With recombinant genes on our side, we're gonna do great things, great things, yep, yep. Drop a bucket of these little coca coli on the Mexican countryside, and you'll have big meatless enchiladas running around, terrorizing people. And there's another big plus--"
"What's that?" I asked.
"They'll never get cancer."
"You should let the Defense Department know about that," I offered.
"Small potatoes," responded Whacker. "Speaking of small potatoes, Davidowitz came up with a batch of french fries yesterday that you could build a log cabin with if you happen to overcook them. Popcorn that's smart enough to pop itself, and big enough so that you only have to order one kernel in a movie theater; cars made out of asparagus that eat tollbooths; marijuana that smokes itself and tells jokes; Government professors who only give A's and who have four legs of differing lengths; entire city councils without tongues; baseball players with bats instead of arms; bats with baseball players instead of wings; edible deep-sea oil-drilling platforms; homosexual turnips--"
"Whacker! Whacker! Snap out of it! You're really getting carried away!" I yelled.
But Whacker wouldn't stop.
"Liver that chops itself and spreads itself on Ritz crackers; paramecia smart enough to make collect phone calls; Girl Scout cookies made out of Girl Scouts..."
That's when I made my getaway. Up the stairs past the sleeping boneless chicken, past a bowl of goldfish knitting woolen sweaters, past a lobster wearing a bib that said "Kosher," and out into the yard, where I hid in six-foot tall blades of grass which were reading copies of Pravda. I made it to my car, but to my chagrin, it was being eaten--by the very dog whose invitation to whist I had foolishly declined earlier in the afternoon.
I stayed on at Whacker's for dinner that evening, and I can't say I didn't wholeheartedly enjoy myself.
Recombinant franks and beans...spinach that did a socko comic monologue before I swallowed it...spaghetti that twirled itself around my fork like a whirling dervish...And that chopped liver!
Professor Meselson, you just gotta get Whacker's recipe...